


Come Aboard, and Bring Along All Your Denizens

by morioriohno



Series: Raftelbound [1]
Category: Homestuck, One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - SBURB Fusion, Bad Parenting, Inappropriate Humor, SBURB, SLINE, Time Fuckery, Time Shenanigans, Well - Freeform, also luffy types like dave??? odd and alarming, be prepared for a bunch of terrible kids now having internet privileges, cryptic bullshit, i guess ill tag more effectively as i go, im not really even kidding???, in which luffy is such a chaotic neutral that he singlehandedly fucks spacetime, or if people ask
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2019-06-19 12:35:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 68,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15510003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morioriohno/pseuds/morioriohno
Summary: ====> Robin: Realize.Your name is NICO ROBIN. It is your 6th birthday, and you have just discovered a timer.It will take you two years, many encounters with the unimaginable, and too high of a cost to find out that it’s counting down to the end of the world.====> Luffy: Recruit a suitable team of your peers.





	1. ====> Luffy: Recruit a suitable team of your peers.

KK: do it  
FF: for the millionth time, luffy, i’m not going to play.  
KK: shut up an do it  
FF: no.

You groan in exasperation, leaning away from the desktop computer as far as you possibly can without toppling your chair. Gaaaah! Why doesn’t she wanna just do what you suggest for once?!

You growl and lean back in, determined to get an affirmative out of her even if it kills you. And even if it does kill you, you’ll just come back and do it anyway.

KK: come ooooooooooooon  
FF: no.  
FF: too much money for a game. go harass someone else.

\- - flightyFingers [FF] blocked kaizokuKing [KK] \- -

The next screech that comes from your seemingly endless lung capacity reverberates around your small, small room, inside your small, small house, hard enough to give even your neighbors a migraine. You hear your brothers arguing halfheartedly over whose job it is to come up to your room and tell you to shut up, but you know neither one really cares about the noise so it doesn’t really matter. No, instead of worrying, you ignore the footsteps trodding against the hallway floor and open Denden once again. Nami should unblock you by the end of the day, she does this every time, and then you’re DEFINITELY gonna get her to play. You need to find someone to bother else for now, no sense wasting time. The gold edition is only out until tomorrow, what will you do if you don’t have enough people to play with by then?

As Ace opens your door you ignore him, scrolling through your apparently infinite roloden with hundreds of names of people you may have spoken to once or twice. Wowsers, you sure know a lot of people.

“Morning, bro.” Ace yawns loudly and leans over your shoulder as you select your next targets—clearly, he’s not even a little bothered by the yelling. You mutter a noncommittal reply, earning you an undeserved mussing of your hair.

\- -  kaizokuKing [KK]  opened log to  octoDisciples [OD]  \- -

KK: yo usopppp  
OD: Oh, hey Luffy! What’s up?  
KK: have you bought sline yet  
OD: ...You mean SLINE, right?  
KK: ye  
OD: Of course! Having some compatibility issues though. Something about Franky’s rig is messing with my copies. Stupid soda machines.  
KK: lol whatchu talking about his computers are great  
KK: they smell delicious  
OD: Of course they smell delicious to you, you idiot.  
OD: Anyway, I’ll keep you posted on the issue.  
KK: rad

\- - kaizokuKing [KK] closed log to octoDisciples [OD] \- -  
\- -  kaizokuKing [KK]  opened log to  theSwordsman [TS] \- -

KK: zoro  
KK: zooro  
KK: zozonoa roro  
KK: hey zolo  


Nothing. That’s weird, the name calling usually gets you something. Especially “zolo”.

KK: lmk when you get the game  
KK: if you forgot then  
KK: uhhhhhh  
KK: unforget  
KK: ya gotta  
KK: why arent you answering  


\- -  theSwordsman [TS]  is currently offline - -

Oh.

KK: hey  
KK: thats not very nice of you  


“This is for that game, right? Have you tried Vivi yet?” Ace says, suppressing another yawn. He was reading over your shoulder, unsurprisingly. You have no secrets from Ace.

You shake your head. “Nah, she’s not into games. Besides, she’s at Nami’s house this weekend, so once Nami goes into the game, Vivi can be there too.”

“Into? What kind of game is it?”

You shrug as you open another window in Denden. Robin’s description of the game had been vague, but cool enough that you figure you’ll enjoy it, whatever ‘into’ is referring to.

\- -  kaizokuKing [KK]  opened log to  etherealGourmet [EG]  \- -

KK: yo  
KK: why is zoro ignoring me  
KK: i mean  
KK: i get hes real cool and all but just not replying is lame  
EG: Shithead? He’s at practice now.  
EG: Also he's not cool. I think you might wanna work on your definition of cool a bit.  
KK: whatever lol  
KK: you download sline yet  
EG: I will when classes are done for the day.  
EG: About the server/client/whatever bullshit for the game, what’s the group looking like so far?  
KK: i have me franky usopp zoro probably nami  
KK: nami and zoro keep ignoring me and I’m still waiting for chopper, robin and brook to let me know  
EG: Brook?  
KK: some old guy i think  
EG: ...Luffy.  
EG: Are you perhaps referring to Professor “Brook” Rumbar? Head of my school’s Liberal Arts program, who is sitting in his office only fifty feet away from my lecture hall, presumably sipping tea and humming “Flight of the Bumblebee” with alarming precision?  
EG: That Brook?  
KK: lol robin and brook with their adult jobs or whatever  
KK: yeah that one  
KK: robinll come thru tho  
KK: brook too  
EG: How could you possibly know him? I live in California.  
EG: And you’re still a snot-nosed highschooler.  
KK: rude  
KK: robin suggested him, shes setting his stuff up i think

You can almost hear the gears turning in Sanji’s brain as he tries to reconcile Robin’s judgement with the idea of a senior citizen playing SLINE with their group.

EG: Uhhhhh. Isn’t he a little old to be playing a video game? He uses a cane, dude.  
KK: nah robin said hell be chill  
EG: Okay then, as long as ~SHE~ suggested it, it sounds like a plan to me! <333

Called it.

EG: I call her server player <333  
EG: Or Nami’s, whoever starts first. <333  
KK: sure whatever just get zoro to reply to me first  
EG: Like you even had to ask.

\- -  kaizokuKing [KK]  closed log to  etherealGourmet [EG]  \- -

That should do the trick. If anyone can pull strings to bother the shit out of Zoro enough to get him to do anything, it’s Sanji.

You minimize his window to check both Robin and Brook’s accounts, but they’re unresponsive as usual. You send similar disjointed rants like the one you sent Zoro to both of them, confident that they’ll answer later. Both of them seem to have a weird habit of replying to stuff at, like, exactly midnight? Which is cool, everything will work out once everyone’s ready to play.

Zoro’s window pings suddenly—it’s barely been a minute since you spoke to Sanji.

\- -  theSwordsman [TS]  opened log to  kaizokuKing [KK]  \- -

TS: WHAT THE FUCK  
KK: yo  
TS: do you have any idea what kind of shit you just got me into with Sensei?!  
TS: all of a sudden my fucking phone starts screeching in the middle of a bout with Kuina, she disarms me immediately, I’m flat on my ass and the phone’s theft alert is going crazy.  
TS: Sensei’s gonna make me do another HOUR of training because of you, you unbelievable piece of crap.  
KK: oh my shit he hacked your phone  
TS: wHO  
KK: lol sanji goin all out  
KK: my man

Behind you you hear Ace snicker with laughter.

TS: I’m gonna fucking kill him. I mean it. Consider him dead. You’re next.  
KK: neat  
KK: anyway did you get sline all set up yet  
TS: fucking idiot, I’m at the dojo, of course not. I was GOING to when I got home, which, thanks to you, will take even longer. and now i gotta get a ride from Kuina since i missed the bus.  
TS: idiot.  
KK: okay okay jeez  
KK: just dont get lost again

You close Denden before Zoro can send you another rant and remind yourself to do something for Sanji to thank him. Maybe get Robin to reply to his constant friend requests? Nah, too weird. He’ll be playing with everyone once the game starts up anyway, what’s the point of doing it any sooner?

Not for the first time, you wonder what your friends are like in real life. Sure, you may talk to Nami and Robin almost every day, but you don’t live close enough to either of them to even know what they look like, or what they sound like, or anything tangible about them, really. Same with Franky, Brook and Sanji. Usopp lives pretty close, you think, but you’ve never seen or called him either. The only people who you’ve met in person are Chopper and Zoro, and Zoro doesn’t even live in your state.

Weird, though. Even though most of your friends are scattered all across the country and you only know them through digital means, it feels as if you’ve known them all your life.

Sabo’s call of your name from the hallway jolts you out of that thought. “Get your coat, it’s snowing like hell out there, and the traffic’s starting to get bad!”

Crap, right! You and Sabo are picking up Chopper from his Grandma’s house, and she’s one of those people who gets super annoyed when they’re late. And she’s scary. With a capital “Terrifying”.

Still, the idea of seeing your friend puts a shit-eating grin on your face. You whip out your phone and open Denden again, opening to Chopper’s already-open chat. As you do, you multitask, grabbing your thick red hoodie and tying it around your waist, then sliding your favorite hat onto your unruly mop of hair.

PG: doctorine is gonna be late for her conference soon, luffy!  
PG: where are you?!  


You’re about to reply when a sneaky hand plucks your hat off your head. You’re halfway through turning around to face Ace when he shoves a much thicker wool cap into your hands. “You’re going to freeze. Take this one.”

You stick your tongue out in what you figure is a solid comeback. “Nah, you’re just saying that because you hate the cold. I’ll be fine!”

He glares at you. Yikes. You know that one: that’s the, _Big Brother Ace is fucking pissed_ look. After making a show out of rolling your eyes, you reluctantly pull the cap down over your ears and start pulling on the sweater as you head out the door and down the stairs to the entrance.

Ace was right. “Freezing” is an understatement. You make it into the entry hallway just in time to see Sabo race to grab his bag and gesture for you to follow. His whole outfit is entirely coated in a light layer of fluffy snow, his nose is a bright red rivaling even your sweater. Even his hair, tied back neatly after presumably being washed, looks stiff, as if it froze before it had time to dry.

You follow him outside and leap into the backseat of your older brother’s beat-up old minivan, which he had thankfully started before you came out here. The snowfall isn’t very heavy yet, but you can see it sticking everywhere it lands, can feel it clinging already to your lashes.

“Dad’s covering the storm on the network today,” Sabo says as he slams the driver’s side door behind him and pulls the van out onto the road. “Might even turn into a blizzard. Supposedly it’s the worst one we’ve had in the Midwest in the last few millennia!”

You believe it. Dad’s some sort of weather genius, he wouldn’t be wrong about that, and he _definitely_ wouldn’t say something on his show if he wasn’t sure about it. Plus, it’s coming down pretty fast. Sabo switches the radio to play some old classic blues/jazz/whatever, but you’re tuning it all out anyway. Instead, you press your face and palms to the window, watching the cars zoom by on the other side of the highway, leaving little dusty clouds of ice and snow in their wake.

A buzz in your pocket nearly makes you jump. Your phone! You didn’t respond before, right?

PG: luffy!  
PG: oh gosh she’s getting impatient...  
PG: maybe if I stay upstairs she woOH NO  
PG: HEYUHIGOTTAGOPLEASEGETHEREASAP  
PG: STRIFE  


Your eyes widen in dismay. A strife with Doctorine has to be possibly the worst thing, ever. You check the timestamp on the last message: three minutes ago.

KK: crap little dude were on our way  
KK: like ten minutes?  


“Sabo, how long till we get there?”

He shrugs. “Traffic could mean we’ve got another half hour to go.”  


KK: times uhhh  
KK: four  
KK: no three  
KK: shit  
KK: uhhhh well be there soon  


He can handle it. Right?

No, he WILL handle it. He’s your friend. He can do anything. Besides, Doctorine wouldn’t hurt him too badly anyway, Hippocratic Oath and all that.

That thought puts you somewhat at ease.

Only somewhat, though. It’s still a strife. You explain quickly and ask Sabo to step on it. He promises to try—after all, you and your brothers know what strifing can be like at its worst.

You shake away thoughts of Gramps chasing the three of you through some long-abandoned Minnesota woods and turn your gaze back to the traffic. It’s starting to get worse, not because of the snow, but more because a bunch of people are rushing home to try and beat the storm. You feel odd as you stare at them. You wonder if any of them are your friends. If any of them will be.

Your name is MONKEY D. LUFFY. It is an UNSEASONABLY COLD AND SNOWY day in October—so unseasonably cold and snowy, in fact, you think there may or may not be a BLIZZARD heading towards you and the rest of the FRIGID MIDWEST. You and your brother SABO are on your way to pick up your friend CHOPPER from his DERANGED GRANDMOTHER’S HOUSE, and possibly rescue him from a STRIFE with his BELOVED GUARDIAN. After that, you and a SUITABLE TEAM OF YOUR PEERS will play a GAME together, and it will be THE MOST FUN YOU COULD EVER POSSIBLY HAVE.

You have a NAGGING AND YET UNDOUBTEDLY CORRECT FEELING that today will be AWESOME.

~ 

====> Zoro: Passive-aggressively accept a ride home from the source of all your frustration.


	2. ====> Zoro: Passive-aggressively accept a ride home from the source of all your frustration.

“You hungry?”

She knows you are. Of course. It’s just a courtesy to ask. If given the opportunity, the two of you could devour an entire horse after every practice, and though you haven’t yet been given the opportunity, you’re not adverse to trying.

But you are angry. Annoyed. Fuming. Pissed beyond all belief, if you will. So you do what you always do when you’re pissed with her. You ignore her. You ignore her even as she pulls into the McDonald's drive through and orders for the both of you, the exact stack of burgers you like, and you ignore her as she unceremoniously drops your bag into your lap.

Kuina sighs as she pulls away from the parking lot and waits for the right moment to merge onto the road. “It’s your own fault for not turning off your phone, you know. I just took advantage of the situation.”

You just barely resist the biting urge to tell her that you _did_ turn it off, that it wasn’t your fault at all but instead your stupid friend and his braindead accomplice trying to get you to reply to a message that really didn’t fucking matter. You keep trying to think of something to say to them, some intelligent rant that could possibly be scalding enough to kill them upon reading it, but all you can think of is practice, and that always derails your train of thought. Maybe there’s some easier way to do something to show them how pissed you are. Part of you wants to just give up on the game entirely, just to teach them a lesson.

Sanji would be happy if you did that, though.

Gah.

She holds out your drink expectantly and floors the gas, just narrowly making a yellow light. To make sure you don't say anything, you snatch it away and take an agonizingly long time to finish your sip, and as you turn to put the cup down you accidentally look at her and you see it.

She’s doing the eye thing. That’s the worst part, you think. You can take the defeats, you can take the embarrassment, even the extra practices that Sensei’s now forcing you to attend four times a week. It’s the look she gives you afterwards that gets you. The look of, _I know you’ll never beat me, dumbass. You couldn’t do it before and you can’t do it now, and your excuses change nothing._  
  
Your mind flashes backwards as you squirm in your seat slightly. The two of you in your orphanage’s attic, just a couple of dusty and bruised kids, Kuina towering over you with a wooden sword in hand and that look in her eyes.

Except they’re not sticks anymore. The ones carefully packaged and secured in the trunk of Kuina’s jeep, the swords you bought with the money you saved from odd jobs for the past three years, they’re real. Dulled for practice, sure, but real.

You fucking _hate_ when Kuina looks at you like that. Like she thinks that you buying your swords was a waste.

You turn sharply in your seat and face the window, watching as you pass through the meh parts of Colorado Springs and up into the mountainous areas. It looks like it’s gonna snow soon—living here for the past decade has taught you to recognize it in the way the clouds move, the smell of the air, little things. Weird. Isn’t it early in the season for snow?

Something nudges you in the shoulder. You glare over and find Kuina’s hand holding a small cup full of ice out to you. She must notice the bruise forming on your neck from your last spar.

Your chest aches for a moment, but you don’t think it’s from pain. It takes all your restraint not to take it.

The two of you continue in silence for a few more minutes until you enters your neighborhood. She pulls up to the driveway and puts the car in park, no longer looking at you. “Take your garbage with you.”

“Fuck you,” you mumble, snatching your bag out of the trunk. Christ, it’s cold today.

“Mm. Don’t lose the card.”

...What?

Momentarily forgetting your grudge, you look up to ask her what she meant, just in time to catch a mouthful of smog from the exhaust as her car careens away.

Bitch.

You grumble and shuffle up the driveway as you practically hack up a lung. The Bentley’s in the driveway, which means _he’s_ home, which means the front door is no longer an option. You don’t want to die.

No point in bringing the soda with you, you chug it and throw it on the lawn out of spite. Your small sedan is parked right by the back gate, the multiple tickets on the windshield glaringly obvious as you scramble to the roof of the car (okay, so you found yourself on the wrong side of the highway _one time_ ). From there, you easily hop the fence blocking away the backyard, even with your bags. This place is all kinds of overboard—you’ve been here way too long, and yet, you still can’t help but feel like it’s all too fancy for you. The massive house radiates money. It’s like some weird Old World vampire mansion, if the vampire in question was your foster dad. And your sister isn’t any less extra. With the two of them here, you’re surprised you’ve avoided catching the gothic Transylvanian nightmare virus that the two of them practically ooze from their pores.

Hopping up to your bedroom window is harder than the fence. You throw your bags up one at a time, careful not to let your food spill out, then do your best to parkour up the ivy-studded walls and grab hold of the ledge of the roof. It’s still not too difficult to go up the next two floors, then practically leap across to the other roof to make it to your room.

The nearest window’s locked, but you know how to force it, and it opens without much hassle. And then you're in. Easy.

You throw your duffle down in a corner and sit at your desk, tearing open the bag of food. Fuck, you were hungry. You’ve gone through two burgers and a large fry before you notice the envelope at the bottom of the bag.

“What the hell,” you mutter through a mouthful of fries. You reach into the bag and grab the envelope, it’s blank, but there’s something inside. You grab one of your many pocket knives from your strife deck and slice it open, dumping the contents on your bed. There’s a small card made of hard plastic, and a small note that simply reads, _10/13, 8pm. Don’t chicken out._

You turn the plastic card over. It’s a driver’s license. _Your_ license.

Okay, seriously, what the fuck. You frown and check your wallet—no, your license is still there, what...? You have two now, great, what the fuck. You scan over the real one and the one you just got. They even have the same picture of you, that shitty one of you with your weird buzz cut and those hideous glasses you had to wear before your dad paid for LASIK. What’s the difference? Is there even a difference? There has to be some—

Oh.

_Oh._

You stare dumbfounded at the card that Kuina slipped into your meal without you noticing, staring at the dates—the _wrong_ dates. Earlier dates that, coupled with your height and appearance of a senior out of college, could easily make you pass for twenty-one.

The wave of guilt rides over you and you have your phone out before you realize.

\- -  theSwordsman [TS]  opened log to  moonlightSteel [MS]  \- -

TS: fuck, I’m sorry. I was an asshole.  
TS: i AM an asshole, correction.  
MS: you found the id, then?  
TS: yeah  
MS: hm.  
MS: knowing you I thought you’d somehow find a way to lose it.  
TS: fuck you!  
TS: uhhhh.  
TS: no wait, actually I deserved that one. I’m an asshole, we’ve established this.  
MS: yep. I’ve been so nice to you, Roronoa. Here I was, going easy on you all practice.  
TS: now actually fuck you.  
MS: haha, yeah, I deserve that one.  
MS: how’s the bruise.  
MS: (s)

The bruises, _plural_ , hurt like a bitch, actually. You regret not taking the ice when she’d offered it. Actually, you’re starting to regret a lot of things that happened today. You finish off your burger and start to change out of your practice clothes, in favor a loose tank top and shorts a few sizes too big, typing and cataloguing your injuries as you go.

TS: I’ll survive.  
TS: fuck, I. I’m sorry I was such a whiny bitch today.  
TS: thanks. For the id, for lunch, for the ride. For everything I guess.  
MS: np, dude. You’re practically my only friend, I’m not abandoning you.  
MS: and speaking of which. That id fool you?  
TS: HELL yeah, it did! Where did you even get it, it looks wicked legit!  
MS: I know a guy. A super sketchy guy.  
MS: and the date works for you? I know I’m celebrating late, but it was the only day i could find.  
TS: our schedules are practically the same, if it works for me, it works for you, so obviously.  
MS: cool!  
MS: I wouldn’t want to celebrate the big 2-1 with anyone else, man. Thanks, really.  
TS: i guess we’re even?  
MS: we always are. Always will be.

That reply feels good. Warm, almost. You don’t feel like as much of an ass anymore—Kuina’s probably your only real friend too, and it always feels good to be reminded. You’ve known her longer than you’ve known anyone, she’s more like a sister than your actual foster sister who lives right across the hall from you. Imagine if your pointless grudge against your other friends had made you do something more rash that could hurt your relationship with Kuina. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself.

You sigh and reach under your bed, popping open a beer can from a six-pack that you managed to sneak away from your dad’s last pointless party. He may be an enigmatic asshole, but hey. He’s got good taste in booze.

MS: so, uh.  
MS: you wanna explain what happened with the phone?  
TS: ughhhh don’t fucking remind me!  
TS: I swear, I’m gonna castrate Sanji for that.  
MS: another lovers quarrel with ya boi?  
TS: don't fucking start this again.  
TS: Luffy’s been bugging me to play this stupid game with him and the others, and since my phone was silenced, he got Sanji to hack my tracker account and trigger the theft alert.  
MS: damn.  
MS: remind me to applaud him for that.  
TS: Sensei flipped his SHIT on me because of that, you know how strict he is with phones!  
MS: yeah but it’s still pretty impressive.  
TS: I gUESS.  
MS: what game is it?  
TS: SLINE. Some group sandbox/fantasy thing? I don’t know a lot, it wasn’t really advertised much.  
MS: ooh.  
MS: you still gonna play?  
MS: no, wait, don't tell me. You’re not gonna just to spite them.  
TS: i was considering just not playing, i guess? I’m pretty pissed with them, I don’t look forward to the extra practice. Plus Sensei’s pretty tight with my dad, so you know I’m gonna get in trouble with him and he’s gonna have some ridiculous stipulation for me that ruins the next month. Add that to you kicking my ass today, all because they couldn’t wait half an hour, and yeah. I’m pissed. Besides, maybe the game won’t even be much to miss.  
TS: damn. You beat me to the punch.  
MS: dude, don’t ruin their fun. They probably didn’t mean it as anything supposed to get you in trouble. And what if the game *is* actually pretty fun, and you miss out on it just because you’re upset today?  
TS: i don’t know...  
TS: I’d rather just chill. Maybe we could even meet up soon and use the gym downstairs for a spar?  
MS: are you shitting me? I don’t want to *break* you, Roronoa.  
MS: besides, I’ve got work in less than an hour.  
MS: not everyone got a perfect foster family who pays their gas money ;P  
TS: ,(  
MS: stop that I’m just teasing.  
MS: anyway, if you want an excuse not to play, leave me out of it. Just give it a shot. Go have fun, we can hang out after practice tomorrow.  
TS: yeah and maybe I’ll drive you home for once so i don't have you riding my ass about gas money again?  
MS: no fucking way dude. I don't want to die.  
MS: besides, you’ve got too much money to use in your lifetime anyway. You can part with the few hundred you owe me by now.  
MS: later, Roronoa.

\- -  moonlightSteel [MS]  closed log to  theSwordsman [TS]  \- -

You release a held breath as her handle goes inactive. A farewell like that holds about as much emotion as you think she’s physically capable of expressing. She’s definitely not pissed at you.

She sure knows how to slap some sense into you, at least. Sanji may piss you off to a degree universes higher than you ever thought possible, but you still don’t think you can stay mad at Luffy.

Sighing, you flop down on your bed, pulling up his chat.

TS: whatever. I’m in.  
KK: yO  
KK: okay just install both copies but dont connect to anyone yet  
KK: you can be usopps server player  
KK: soon as hes ready hell start setting up  
KK: lmk if that works for ya

You’re in the middle of typing a reply when your sister slams the door open, all sinister smiles, and you jolt upright in surprise.

“Oooh, you're fucked,” Perona giggles with morbid delight, holding up her phone towards you and snapping a picture before you can protest. “I told him I saw that trashy jeep pulling up earlier, but he didn’t believe me!” She gets a shot of the empty beer can before you find the common sense in you to hide it.

It takes you until you hear the text tone to remember that your little sister is a rotten fucking snitch.

You start to move towards the edge of the bed and turn towards the window when a voice makes you freeze in place.

“Roronoa Zoro. I was unaware you’d come home.”

Mother _fucker_. He’s already in the window, isn’t he. You know he is. Your dad has never been one for a simple knock on the door.

Your name is RORONOA ZORO. You had SWORDPLAY PRACTICE earlier this afternoon that, due to the idiotic actions of your impatient FRIENDS and the existence of your TENTATIVE RIVAL SLASH FRIEND KUINA, went to ABSOLUTE SHIT IN A HANDBASKET. Thanks to your BITCH SISTER, your secret fuckups have been revealed to your GUARDIAN, and said guardian is now PERCHED IN THE WINDOW LIKE A HAWK READY TO SLIT YOUR THROAT.

You’re so fucked.

~

====> Chopper: STRIFE!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'll be updating this maybe every week or two, fluctuating? Don't expect a very static schedule, if I'm feeling it, I might even post double chapters more frequently. But yeah, expect a lot of time travel, looping stories, and some other interesting things! I'm experimenting a bit with the writing style, though I really do like it so I may do this some more! 
> 
> Additionally, and this is important, but YOU CAN HELP DETERMINE WHAT COMES NEXT!!! I do have the main plot figured out, but once I've had a chapter with each of the Straw Hats, I'll let people determine how much exploration comes into play, strifing, character interactions, et cetera. I already have the worlds and classpects figured out, I don't think you'll be disappointed ;)))))))


	3. ====> Chopper: STRIFE!!!

One thing you’ve learned while living in East Grand City is this—here, strifing is a part of life. It happens all the time, sometimes planned, sometimes unplanned, and it can happen anywhere. On the street, at a restaurant, _school_ —gosh, you’ve done a lot of strifing at school. You know it’s not the healthiest thing for you, or the city in general, but it just seems natural. It’s as if it’s always been just the way things are here, where you have to fight to assert that you’re right about something, and words aren’t ever enough for that.

It was hard when you first moved in with your grandmother. Back in your old town in Canada, nobody ever strifed. You didn’t even have a kind abstratus, there was no point. But here you had to learn, had to adapt to avoid being eaten alive. This part of the city had forced you to do that.

When something new becomes part of your life, you have to adapt to it, like with everything else. So you got used to strifing. So used to it, in fact, that whenever you found yourself face-to-face with Doctorine during a strife, you learned to multitask.

_It’s the years of adaptation and learning that made this possible,_ you think. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be installing both your copies of SLINE while simultaneously trying to bar the door as Doctorine bangs on it with an axe.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THERE, YOUNG MAN?!” she shrieks, her voice tinged with madness. Even in your Heavy Point, you don’t think you can hold it too long. As if trying to prove your theory, the door shudders heavily, throwing you back for a moment.

You roll your eyes and attempt to drown out the next part of her tirade— _yadda yadda, masturbation is perfectly healthy for your age, now open the damn door or this baby is going straight to your skull, you idiot brat_ —but the axe banging against the wood of your bedroom door is kind of hard to ignore. What even _is_ her abstratus? She’s used more than just axes, that much you know, so it can’t be that. You shove the nagging fear down as far as it can go and manage a glance at your computer. The server copy’s still downloading, but at least the client is set. That’s enough to let it finish at Luffy’s house, hopefuOH _SHIT_

The axe breaks through the door with a sickening crack, mere inches from your head, and you shriek—because what the heck else are you supposed to do when your grandmother is LARPing _“The Shining”_ with you as an unwilling participant? You shift quickly against the door and try your best to hold it without pressing your body to it, but it’s nearly impossible, she’s got the leverage now and you’re not gonna be able to hold it shut any longer.

_Take a deep breath, Chopper. You know the drill! Every room has an exit. Focus. Pick an escape route and go for it._

__Right. Focus. The window’s open, you’re on the first floor. All you need to do is release the door, dash for your laptop and sleeping bag, and ollie the heck out.

You take a deep breath, leaning forward and preparing for the switch to Brain Point. Doctorine yells another few expletives and pulls back the axe, and that’s when you go. Your body shrinks down until you’re barely at the height of your desk, and you make a mad scramble for your laptop and everything else you might need to run the game.

By the time Doctorine kicks the door off its hinges, you’ve already got your coat on. You screech in surprise as she hurls the axe at you, just narrowly clipping your right antlers as you throw yourself towards the window and leap out into the snow. The wind howls around you and snow sticks to your fur but you press forward regardless.

You get all the way to the edge of the driveway before you turn around to see if she’s still in your room. Doctorine leans out the window, squinting behind her tinted sunglasses.

But she’s got a weird smirk on her face. And when you see it, you can feel yourself start to smile too.

You’re pretty sure that even though she can be mean and loud and find a reason to start a strife at the drop of a pin, she still loves you.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Nine minutes, four seconds. Record time, brat!” she hollers out to you, and oh, yeah, now you feel the smile growing even wider. That’s the fastest you’ve ever absconded! Yes!

“Wh-whatever!” you manage. Your cheeks heat up and you sway on your heels, grinning stupidly despite yourself. “Hehe, don’t be _dumb_ , that’s not gonna make me happy at all!”

She crosses her arms dismissively. “Yeah, sure, whatever, just get the hell off my driveway, you stupid reindeer!”

You nod sharply, adjusting your bags. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Doctorine!”

“Don’t stay up too late!”

No more shouts come from her after that, so you figure she’s done talking to you and has to actually get ready for her conference. You start off down the street, still smiling to yourself. You broke your record! And as if that wasn’t enough, Doctorine’s also proud of you for it. It’s rare for her to give you that little smirk, that one that says, _Nicely done, grandson._ But it feels great to see it.

A sudden gust of wind makes you stop for a moment to shield your face, suppressing a yelp. This storm is colder and windier than the usual ones, and to top it all off, it’s pretty early in the year for snow. Your fur usually—

_“CHOPPEERRRRRRR!!”_

You scream in shock and instinct takes over as you dive for the nearest fire hydrant and hide behind it as best as you can.

A car pulls up beside your hiding spot, ancient brakes squeaking in the snow. You chance a look out—the car isn’t one you recognize, but to your relief, the idiot sticking his entire torso out the backseat window is a familiar face.

“Hey, Chopper!” he continues to call, waving. How can he see you?! You’re hiding—oh, wait, nope, wrong way. Dang it. “Come on!”

“Gaaaah!” You roll your eyes and leave your hiding spot, running up to the window with your bags dragging in the snow behind you. You’re not shaking. Nope. You’re not. You are, _completely_ , unstartled by this. “Luffy, you’re crazy!”

Luffy starts to say something but yelps suddenly as his brother drags him back into the car by his hood. You haven’t met this one before, but he fits the description of Sabo pretty well. Thick blonde hair, facial scar only partially hidden under makeup, oddly formal fashion sense.

“Get your dumb head in the car before you let the whole _storm_ in, you idiot!” Then Sabo looks over at Chopper and grins. “You must be Tony. I’ll pop the trunk for you, it’s a pleasure to meet you!”

You grin at him in reply before running to the trunk and shoving your sleeping bag into it, placing your laptop down more carefully. Another heavy gust of wind gives you an idea and, after a moment of struggling, you heave yourself up into the trunk and into the back seat that way. Sabo gives you a vaguely bemused look before telling Luffy to grab the door. Luffy rolls his eyes and picks up a hand, whipping it back to grab the trunk door from the inside and pulling it shut, all without turning around. Gosh, he’s cool.

As the three of you leave the suburbs of E. Grand City and shift onto the highway, Sabo politely asks you about yourself and how you met Luffy. He seems genuinely curious—after all, there are plenty of Zoan type users around here, but he’s probably never seen someone with your particular set of abilities before. And didn’t Luffy once say his older brothers were investigative journalists for Baltigo Station News? No wonder he’s asking.

You introduce yourself as TONY TONY CHOPPER, a REINDEER who ate the HUMAN-HUMAN DEVIL FRUIT. Your family history is COMPLICATED and DOES NOT INCLUDE BESTIALITY, and you live with your GRANDMOTHER KUREHA, a renowned SURGEON at the nearby hospital. You met your friend LUFFY when your high schools both decided to plan the annual DISNEY TRIP over the same weekend—Luffy was PLAYING HOOKIE and you were DEVASTATINGLY LOST, and the two of you sat next to each other on an ABSOLUTELY TERRIFYING ROLLERCOASTER and have been INSEPARABLE PALS ever since.

Sabo seems to like the story—even breaking into raucous laughter when you mention how Luffy threw up immediately after getting off the ride, prompting you to treat him on the spot for motion sickness. Then Sabo tells you an incredible story about the only time the Monkey family made the mistake of going sailing, told with so much accuracy that you can almost feel yourself there, your body shaking with laughter as Luffy and Ace and every other member of their family struggle to hold in their lunch. Apparently, motion sickness is a common trait in their bloodline— _thank goodness I’m adopted,_ Sabo cackles, and the two of you join in.

The three of you make small talk for the rest of the drive, talking about school, the weather, the upcoming holidays, all the boring stuff. The conversation eventually seems to settle on the storm though. You agree with Sabo’s enthusiasm over the possibility of a massive blizzard, though the doctor side of you can’t help but wonder if people have enough resources to deal with the severe drop in temperature a bomb cyclone might bring. That’s more Nami’s expertise anyway.

Luffy just hopes it’s the sledding kind of snow. That’s a Luffy reaction, all right.

The traffic worsens as you finally escape the highway and Sabo navigates the winding suburban streets until you pull up to the Monkey residence. It’s pretty decently sized, but the more you try and think about the size of Luffy’s family, the more you find yourself struggling with the dimensions. How do they fit...? You run through the members in your mind as the three of you disembark and quickly hurry inside, shaking off the layers of snow that coats you down to your bones. There’s Luffy, Ace, Sabo, Luffy’s dad and grandfather, and sometimes his cousin Makino and sometimes his uncle? So maybe seven. Probably five though. Weird, that doesn’t seem like much when you say the number—

As soon as the door closes behind you, Luffy cups his hands around his mouth and shouts at the top of his lungs for Ace, making your antlers practically vibrate. Almost instantly, his grandfather is screaming at him not to yell in the house, immediately prompting a shouting match between the two that Ace quickly pops in on. Loud Portuguese fills the upper limits of the house as Sabo quietly steers you away to the kitchen and hands you a small towel for your fur.

“I get it,” he says with a smile, quietly, a vivid contrast to the muffled excited screeching you now hear from upstairs. “Those three are enough to fill the entire city up, if you get them loud enough. Come on, let’s get you some tea.”

~

It’s nearly two hours later when Luffy comes downstairs, changed into fresh PJs and swishing a toothbrush around in his mouth. Mr. Garp has already gone to bed, Sabo left you to your tea a little while ago to go work on a report with Ace, and supposedly, Luffy’s dad is still out at work. You’d changed a little while ago too, into one of your big shirts that hangs down to your hooves, and you’d gotten working on homework after making sure your copies of SLINE had finished installing. AP Bio is _hard_ , and as if that wasn’t enough, you’ve still got the SAT II coming up.

Luffy plops down into the seat beside you, pulling a laptop across the table. All the scratches on it tell you it must be his—he drops everything. “Whatcha doin’?” he mumbles, a string of bubbly toothpaste saliva dripping from his mouth.

You grimace. “Bio E/M studying.”

“Booooo.” He pouts in reply, making the toothbrush bounce. “That’s boring, Chopper!”

“Yeah, it is,” you agree. You close Doctorine’s notes and click the icon for SLINE, grinning at Luffy. “Game time?”

His corresponding smile threatens to overtake his face entirely as he throws his toothbrush in the kitchen sink ( _gross_ ) and pulls up his own copy. “Shishishi! Duh!”

You look at the game. Apparently, it takes your Denden login credentials—makes sense, everyone uses Denden. You enter yours and a window pops up, asking you to choose which version you’re entering as, server or client.

The two of you exchange a look. “Who should do which one?” you ask curiously.

Luffy appears to be deep in thought. _That_ can’t be good.

“...Luff—“

“Server sounds like it has something to do with food, we’re in my kitchen. It’s destiny,” he explains plainly.

...A snort escapes you before you can catch it. He’s so _serious!_ “That does sound pretty fitting for you.”

“Yup!” He types in your handle, sends you the request, and you accept it. Seemingly satisfied, he pulls out his phone for a second. “I’m gonna ask Dad to bring home a pizza, want anything special?”

You shake your head and pull out your phone too. Better see if there’s any—oh! Yeah, there’s a message! Uh, a lot of messages, actually.

\- - cocacolaCollaborator [CC] opened log to pocketGentleman [PG] \- -

CC: hey uh, tony?  
CC: you seein this?  
CC: ah wait shit you’re already in the storm, minnesota’s gettin hammered right now.  
CC: i’m not even sure any of this is goin thru  
CC: nami just called about some weird stuff she saw?  
CC: it’s happenin here too, and i can’t get ahold of zoro, or usopp.  
CC: just wonderin if you see it too  
PG: hey, franky!  
PG: see what?  
CC: *!wOw!*  
CC: hiya, little dude!  
CC: nami said she saw a m

A frying pan falls in front of your face, knocking the phone from your hands and shattering it against the ground before you have a chance to finish the sentence.

You stand there, shocked for a moment, your hands still in scrolling position.

For a good ten seconds, nothing happens.

You turn to Luffy, feeling an enraged shriek building in your throat, but stop when you see his expression.

He’s staring at you, completely shocked. Jaw open.

No, wait. Not _at_ you. _Above_ you.

You look up and see...

_What??_

Slowly, laboriously, Luffy proceeds to don the most shit-eating grin you think you’ve ever seen on another human being. He moves his hand over his mouse and the—the _cursor over your head_ moves accordingly.

You put the pieces together.

“Holy shit,” you breathe, about a split second before he starts cackling excitedly. How? How is this even possible? A—a reality-bending video game? In _real life????_

Luffy looks back at the screen, still smiling ear to ear, his scar stretched across his cheek as he turns the computer towards you. It’s a view of both of you, here, right now, from a place where a camera shouldn’t be physically possible to place. Oh gosh, it’s real. It’s _real_. You’re in a fantasy! That must be it, it’s a dream, and when you open your eyes it’s going to be gone.

You close your eyes. Open them. Luffy is using the astral cursor to raid the fridge, shoving a huge container of leftovers into the microwave.

Despite yourself, you feel your own shock turn into disbelief, then awe, and then something you know all too well. It’s _intrigue_. A violent curiosity that can only be sated by the one thing you know better than anything else: cold, hard research.

You’re back at your computer in seconds.

CC: nami said she saw a meteor shower, just wonderin if that’s ringin any bells  
CC: then weird shit started happenin  
CC: then she fell off the face of the earth but that ain’t important right now little dude  
CC: ...hello?  
CC: tony?  
CC: hang on, i think i see another one  
PG: FRANYK OH MGY GOSH THE GFAME ITS REAL  
PG: ITTS REALLY REAL ITS CHANGING THE WORLD AORUND US HOOOIOOOOOOOOLY HECK  
PG: I NEED THE GAME SITE LINK ASSAP  
PG: ASAP SORRY  
PG: THIS SI SO HECKING COOOOOLLLL

\- -  cocacolaCollaborator [CC]  is currently offline - -

PG: noOOOOOOOOOOOO

Luffy tries to poke you with the cursor, but you swat the impossible arrow away and open up your search engine. If Franky can’t give you the info you need, you’ll find it yourself.

SLINE. No idea what it stands for, what it means, how it works.

But you’ll be _damned_ if you don’t find out.

~ ~

====> Nami: Contemplate the reason for the use of “meteor” in “meteorology”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably should've mentioned this earlier, but my tumblr is [awesomenessagenda](https://awesomenessagenda.tumblr.com), so feel free to tag me in stuff or shoot me asks whenever? Also if you wanna theorize to me or be a more active part of the storywriting, I'm always down to chat ;P


	4. ====> Nami: Contemplate the reason for the use of “meteor” in “meteorology”.

You know Vivi would kill you if she knew this, but nothing in this world makes you smile the way an alert tone from your bank account does.

You smirk to yourself at the sound, even though you know that it’s not really to yourself. Vivi can see it perfectly from the position she’s taken on your bed, just in your line of sight. She’s often mentioned liking your smile, so you figured, hell. Why not show it off?

You whip your phone out of your pocket, your grin only widening as the payment comes in. _Nice._

“I take it you’ve finished another job?” Vivi asks, glancing away as if to pretend she wasn’t looking.

“Yuh-huh!” you giggle, spinning in your chair with your legs out in front of you. “Man, this kind of stuff can really make a girl go mad. Who would think people would go through all this trouble just for some stupid piece of plastic?”

Vivi makes an ambivalent noise and retreats back into her book. Gah. Rich people. They’ll never truly know the joy of reading their bank statements with their own two eyes. _Some_ of you have to pay the bills, after all.

You open Denden on your workstation.

\- -  flightyFingers [FF]  opened secure log to  moonlightSteel [MS]  \- -

FF: ooh! that’s quite the tip, missy~  
MS: had to make sure you weren’t going to back out.  
FF: and deny myself a chance to turn a profit? you clearly don’t know me at all.  
MS: i really don’t  
MS: regardless, I thought I should thank you for the expedited shipping.  
FF: no worries! i’m always down to help a friend with cash.  
FF: besides, zoro going to a bar with a friend might actually be good for him?  
MS: you...know him? And me, apparently, if you know our connection.  
FF: maybe ;$  
FF: anyway, it was nice of you to give me that tip after i gave you such a good discount!  
MS: *THAT* is your idea of a discount??  
MS: jfc

\- -  moonlightSteel [MS]  closed secure log to  flightyFingers [FF]  \- -

You close the chat application and switch back to your current list of jobs, checking off the box for _fake id for MS._ More check marks than usual this week. You’ve been getting a lot of special orders recently, this one included, and coupled with your lucrative business strategies and the demand for your products, you think you’ve raked in a cool year’s rent in just the past seven days.

“Remind me to get you something nice,” you say absently, scrolling idly through your current orders. Nothing doable, not today, at least. It’s too early in the States for any of your contacts to be working, and too late in Eurasia for trying to outsource a job. Looks like you’ve got a few hours to kill.

Vivi makes another acknowledging noise at your comment, and you can tell she’s lost in thought by the quiet rustling of her papers. That political science homework must be kicking her ass.

...No, wait. Actually, if _anyone_ in this entire country can pound a political science thematic essay into submission, you’re damn sure it’s your girlfriend.

A small smirk, more sincere than the usual one your work puts on your face, takes over your expression. You shuffle through some websites for the next few hours, doing your best to patiently pass the time while Vivi works on her homework. But updating your social networking profiles and reading [low-budget webcomics](http://www.mspaintadventures.com/sweetbroandhellajeff/) can only entertain you for so long. You’ve never had much of an attention span for things that are meant to be mindless. Breaking the law, getting your business degree, that shit is easy. Sitting still and doing something that won’t distract Vivi from her essay? Impossible.

No, you need something to do. A job, a puzzle, a challenge, something with _stakes_. Otherwise, what’s the point?

\- -  flightyFingers [FF]  opened log to  cocacolaCollaborator [CC]  \- -

FF: fffrrrranky.  
FF: i am so very, v e r y bored.  
FF: any chance you’ve got a job lined up for me?  
FF: preferably of the illegal variety, i’m not feeling too charitable today.  
FF: gah i am very bored. oh no, what’s this? i found a perfect way to dismantle the workstation?  
FF: which one’s the hdmi port again? i put the headphone pluggy thingy in there, right?

\- -  cocacolaCollaborator [CC]  set log to secure- -

CC: !>wOw<!  
CC: whoa, whoa, no need to get all worked up over it, nami!  
CC: sorry, doll, there ain’t nothin on the queue right now. this time of day, our business is *\^$UP3R^/* bust.  
FF: gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!  
FF: really? nothing for your best middleman? nothing?  
FF: i pay you your fair share for your tech. maybe even more.  
CC: if there were anythin to give, you’d have it. sorry...  
CC: fuck off we both know you stash at least half of your payment before you give me my “fair share”  
CC: you may be $UP3R at your job but you’re also? real damn stingy.  
FF: ;p the wallet wants what the wallet wants  
FF: besides, my router’s due for a much needed upgrade.  
CC: well, at least i know you’re usin that cash for good things  
CC: how’s my baby doin anyway? she treatin you right?

You take a quick look at your workstation. You’ve only met Franky, if that isn't an alias, once in person—he’d driven his ratty pickup truck all the way up from _Texas_ to deliver it himself. While he’d set it up, you’d barely been allowed to so much as breathe on it, let alone try it or argue about where to put it. But the station had worked like a dream, fit like a glove, whatever analogy works best, from the instant you’d sat down. Two monitors linked together, enough ports and rerouters to make sure you wouldn’t ever leave a fingerprint on the web, completely original OS, a damn _program_ solely suited for hacking overseas bank accounts. He even added a small Doppler weather radar on top, because, after all, you’re not an _animal._

FF: righter than rain.

You glance up at the radar now, still in its usual place. It isn’t Franky’s tech, so it had started crashing years ago. Now you mostly keep it off.

Some odd mix of nostalgia and curiosity wells up in you, and you reach up and turn the dial on the machine. It flickers for a moment and, with a clipped burst of white noise, begins slowly projecting the current weather patterns over Las Vegas. Nothing surprises you—at this point, you’re pretty sure you can read these things just by listening to the wind. It’s a little too cold for October, but it’s not too much. The few fronts you can make out over the mid-Northwest pretty much match the current forecast of blizzards for days, moving towards the coasts as the day progresses. A selfish part of you hopes that it hits Nevada right when Vivi has to catch her plane back to Stanford—any time you can milk with her, you plan on getting.

As Franky’s next message comes in, you almost miss the little blip on the radar.

Almost.

Your eyes narrow as a weird—well, what is it? It looks like a streak of some kind. Like a comet, almost. A diagonal line flashing across the edges of the radar towards the East Coast, over the Great Lakes.

A weather phenomena you haven’t seen? Impossible.

CC: @^!wOw!^@  
CC: happy to hear it, doll!  
CC: nami?  
CC: you went silent  
CC: whoa what the fuck was that  
FF: yeah sorry, uh, hold on one second, ‘kay?

\- -  flightyFingers [FF]  opened log to  kaizokuKing [KK]  \- -

FF: luffy, are you by any chance outside?  
KK: oh hey nami  
KK: nah  
KK: its cold out i think  
KK: dad said so  
KK: i havent gone outside yet today  
FF: drat.  
FF: well, no harm in asking. did you happen to see anything odd passing overhead?  
FF: like a big rock or weird cloud?  
FF: something big and solid?  
KK: what like meteors????  
KK: oh dude those are so cool  
KK: nah havent seen anything  
KK: hey are you gonna play sline with us today  
FF: sline?  
KK: the game  
KK: ye

You suppress a scoff.

FF: ...when have i EVER shown interest in playing a video game, ever?  
KK: hold on ive got it right here

\- -  kaizokuKing [KK]  sent attachment  blackmailing_nami.txt  \- -

FF: ...luffy that’s three years old. it’s from when i met you!  
KK: so?  
KK: dont go back on your word nami  
KK: you said youd be interested  
KK: at least try it  
KK: robin says we need nine people to play  
KK: sooo play  
KK: at least take a look at it  
KK: here

He sends you a link preview for the website. It looks stupid. And it’s pretty expensive for something you would buy only to indulge your friend.

Another blip crosses the radar, this time large enough to catch your eye. It’s at a different angle than the first, and a little larger, which may sound unimportant but in reality its groundbreaking. You stare at the screen in surprise as a third, then fourth blip come across the screen at different angles yet again, too irregular and organically shaped to be a glitch in the machine.

You hear a text tone from your burner phone—Franky, it’s gotta be. He’s the only one who uses it. Looking back at your desktop, you see at least a dozen missed messages from his Denden handle, but it also looks like he’s offline, so you switch to the phone.

R: holy fucking shit!  
R: wow, at this point i’m probably gonna sound $UP3R insane, but  
R: i think a meteor just hit ices house  
R: holy shit.  
R: i gotta go check  
R: fuck don’t be dead ice please  
R: don't be dead  
R: oh jesus what the sweet christ is this  
R: hey nami?  
R: you seein any meteors where you are?  
R: because i think one of them just killed ice

You read that last line once. Twice. Over and over, until the horrifying reality of it sinks in.

Iceburg is _dead?_

Something tastes sour in the back of your throat. This feels bad.

Vivi’s concerned voice jolts you back to reality. “Nami, you look like you’ve seen a ghost! Is everything okay?”

You look over at your girlfriend, sitting on your bed with an intensely worried expression on her face. You can’t scare her about this. You just can’t. You met Franky through her, she’s friends with Iceburg, you’re not saying anything until you know for certain.

“It’s nothing!” you lie. “Just some asshole making my job a little more difficult than usual. Don’t you worry about it.” Just to reassure her, you poke her nose playfully and then spin back into your chair, hoping she gets the message.

“...Alright, Nami. I’m done here, so whenever you want to go to that nice lunch place you were talking about, let me know.”

“Okay,” you say, already ignoring her.

S: holy shit franky are you sure?  
R: nami thank fuck  
R: well, his house it’s fucked  
R: there’s a crater  
R: he’s fucking gone what the fuck  
S: completely gone??

In response, Franky sends you a short video. It’s a sweeping view of his street, which you’ve never seen before. Looks nice. Coastal. The video passes over a few houses, all looking fairly normal, and then stops on a...what you can only assume _used_ to be Iceburg’s house. It looks as if someone ripped it out, foundations and all. And in place of it is a massive crater, sloping up all the way to the edge of the front yard. The property fence is untouched.

S: oh my god  
S: franky what the hell happened?!  
R: i saw a meteor  
R: then it crashed into his house  
R: and he’s gone  
S: ...a meteor?  
S: did it by any chance come from the northwest somewhere?  
R: yeah! )w0w( how’d you know??  
S: i saw a few streaks on my radar, i wasn’t sure what it was so i asked luffy if he’d seen anything.  
S: it must be the same thing i saw!  
S: there were a few more going at a more southward angle, maybe one of those was what hit iceburg’s house?  
R: wait, more than one?  
R: and the news reports aren’t saying anything about them??  
R: ;wOw; so we’ve got some fucked up murder meteor mystery on our hands right now  
R: hold on, i’m headin home to see if i can dig anythin up on this. switch to denden

Maybe you should do the same. This is equally as interesting as it is morbidly terrifying. You’ll need access to a more comprehensive weather radar system, maybe a few of your contacts have woken up by now. Maybe Franky can get you into some government satellite thing? No, too risky—

Your workstation pings annoyingly. Must be Luffy again. Your nose wrinkles in frustration. There may very well be an unprecedented, never-before-seen meteorological disaster happening at this very second, one of your distant friends may have just been killed, and this _doofus_ is distracting you.

KK: geez nami dont be so boring itll be fun  
KK: come on  
KK: comeoncomeoncomeon  
FF: luffy i don’t have time for this! if you don’t know anything about the weird anomaly i saw, then we’re done here.  
KK: do it  
FF: for the millionth time, luffy, i’m not going to play.  
KK: shut up an do it  
FF: no.  
KK: come ooooooooooooon  
FF: no.  
FF: too much money for a game. go harass someone else.

\- - flightyFingers [FF] blocked kaizokuKing [KK] \- -

God, he’s so damn annoying sometimes. Sometimes you wonder why you put up with...

An idea comes to you.

FF: franky, are you able to hack a weather station?  
FF: specifically, baltigo station news?  
CC: that’s the one where luffy lives, yea?  
CC: sorry, doll, security’s tight as tits there :/  
FF: and what if i gave you luffy’s network credentials?  
CC: suspicious

\- -  flightyFingers [FF] sent attachment  MDL_codeRef.tiff  \- -

CC: !+$w0w$+!  
CC: ya thought of everythin, didn’tcha?  
FF: ;$  
CC: alright, just give me a fe

The lights in your apartment go dark—your workstation along with them.

The two of you yelp in surprise. You look over and see that Vivi was about to plug her phone charger into the wall right as the power cut.

“What just happened?” Vivi asks.

“No clue,” you reply sincerely, and with just a twinge more fear than you're willing to admit. You don’t like this. It sits all kinds of wrong with you.

As Vivi heads to the kitchen, you crawl under your desk, checking to see if the UPS is still—fuck, no. You hope you backed up anything important. And that whatever fried your UPS didn’t fry the entire workstation.

“Power’s still going in the hall,” she calls from outside your room. Okay. Okay, so this is targeting you. That just makes it even fucking creepier.

Your phone buzzes. Still the burner. Must be Franky again, worried that you dropped off the radar.

The second you read the messages, it’s immediately clear that it’s not.

R: Hello, Miss Navigator~  
R: I don’t believe we’ve ever spoken before, though I must admit, I thought it would be much later.  
R: Be a darling and ask Miss Nefertari to close the door, would you?

~

====> Sanji: Abandon all hope of ever meeting a normal woman in your life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops my finger slipped hello character death


	5. ====> Sanji: Abandon all hope of ever meeting a normal woman in your life.

Hello,  zororo.hawk@ddmushi.com,

We understand that your device has been lost and/or stolen. In order to help you better locate the device if it is still in your vicinity, an automated alarm tone has been triggered on your device. Please follow the sound to locate your missing device. If further problems persist, please make an official report or contact your local law enforcement services.

For further instructions, check our website at ddmushi.com/myDevices or log into your Denden account.

Sincerely, the team at DendenMushi Communications

You lean back from your desk, exhaling a weird mixture of shock and disbelief, and you just sit there for a few seconds, trying to comprehend the email, what it means. It means that Zoro’s phone is making an alarm tone now. It means that he’s aware of his phone, and by extension, the numerous messages Luffy has been sending him. And it means that your attempts to hack into his DendenMushi account were successful, and so were your efforts to ping his phone and trigger the alarm.

It means that _you did it._

This is now officially the best day of your fucking life.

It’s nearly impossible to contain the shout of elation and victory that threatens to break free, risking exposure to the rest of the people cramped inside the lecture hall. Instead, you settle for pressing the capslock key on your laptop, figuring the excitement will carry through.

But just getting the confirmation for _yourself_ isn't enough. You have a job to do. You flag the email, send a copy of it to yourself, and then take a screenshot, because you are _NOT_ going to pass up this gloating opportunity. You make sure to catch the whole screen—your email, your terminal window, and the port you have currently accessing Zoro’s account remotely. Otherwise he might think you’re faking.

You name the file appropriately and open Denden.

\- -  etherealGourmet [EG]  opened log to  dengekiHenry [DH]  \- -

EG: HEY NIJI  
EG: WHAT’S GOOD BIG BRO  
EG: YOU ENJOYING CLASS CUZ I SURE AS HELL AM  
DH: Sanji what the fuck is wrong with you  
EG: NOTHING AT ALL  
EG: IN FACT EVERYTHING IS PERFECT  
EG: WANNA KNOW WHY?

\- -  etherealGourmet [EG]  sent attachment  SUCKMYDICKNIJI.png  \- -

EG: EAT MY ENTIRE ASS

\- -  etherealGourmet [EG]  blocked  dengekiHenry [DH]  \- -

You captchalogue your laptop and stare over at the back of Niji’s stupid blue buzzcut, failing to keep the smug prick grin off your face (you know what you are, you don’t deny it). Your older brothers sit about a dozen rows down from you, probably in an effort to distance themselves from you as much as possible. Ichiji, however, looks like he’s at least trying to pay attention to the professor as she drones on about temporal inevitability or something—Niji isn’t even trying to hide the fact that he doesn’t want to be here. His laptop is open, he’ll look at the screenshot eventually.

You see the moment where he opens the picture. His shoulders stiffen, and he freezes, and then he’s hunched over his computer, furiously typing something. Probably trying to verify the screenshot’s content. When he does, he somehow manages to stiffen up even more, and then he’s messaging you in the family memo, but you ignore it just to spite him. If it’s in that memo, every Vinsmoke will know what you did by the end of the hour. _Good_. You’d love to see the look on your biological father’s face.

He turns over his shoulder suddenly, glaring at you behind his asshole goggles. You wave.

Ichiji notices Niji’s reaction and also casts a look over his shoulder towards you. You somehow keep the smile on your face and turn the wave into a little salute. His eyes narrow—but considering Ichiji, that’s a victory on your end.

A sharp reprimand from your professor has your brothers turning around to face forward again, and then they’re both getting in trouble as she turns their computers around and sees their undoubtedly numerous chat windows and other tabs open. She doesn’t react at all to you, since as far as she knows, you were just sitting there, studiously listening to the lecture and maybe waving to your brothers but nobody knows you're related anyway so what does it matter?

You can almost feel the anger radiating off of Niji from the front as the professor drones on. _God_ , this is vindicating. He’d said you couldn’t do it. You’d asked him for advice on cracking Denden’s server and he’d told you there was no fucking way in hell you could and you _did_.

Spite, you’ve come to learn over your nineteen years of being a mistake, is a powerful thing.

The second class is dismissed, you abscond the fuck out of there before your older brothers can kick the shit out of you. Still, even if they did catch you, you think it’d be worth it.

~

The rest of the day passes slowly after the high of your theoretical physics class—it’s hard to top the incredible feeling of one-upping your asshole of a brother. You go through your last class dully, anxiously waiting until you can head back home and gloat about this some more to a more appreciative audience.

You try and message a few people, but everyone always seems busy at this time, and other than a short and bland conversation with Usopp, you’re the only one online. At one point you get a message from Reiju on Denden, congratulating you on a job well done. That makes you grin like an idiot again—nice to know at least one of your siblings is on your side.

You manage to avoid your older brothers on campus, though running into Yonji is inevitable. Sneaky bastard has a way of always finding you when you least want to be found. Somehow, though, he doesn’t find you today. Maybe he’s busy plotting with Ichiji and Niji to kill you on the way home. Just in case, you walk a little quicker, keeping the recipes for your weapons at the front of your mind.

The walk through Santa Cruz is an hour of uneventful mindlessness. Theoretically, it should only take maybe a twenty minute bus ride to get back home, but the route you walk is more... _scenic_ seems like a good word. Or _self-loathing_. It takes a special kind of person to hate themselves enough to walk by the one education they’ll never be able to afford.

You don’t feel as shitty as usual as you pass the Chateau Culinary Institute. Maybe it’s because you proved you’re good at hacking today? It makes you feel a little less like you're wasting your life away at UCSC. But it still doesn’t feel _great_ when you pass an open window and catch the fragrant aroma of something _incredible_ being cooked. God, _fuck,_ that’s good. It takes all your restraint not to run inside and demand a scholarship. Then again, that seems like something your family would do, and that immediately shuts the idea down.

It’s already starting to get dark when you come up to the steps of Baratie. The air has a crisp chill to it, but the warmth radiating from underneath the doors is more than enough to offset the cold. Energetic chatter from inside tells you the Friday dinner rush has started. Fuck, you might need to work the kitchen tonight. Hopefully you’ll still be able to play SLINE with Luffy and your friends. He _did_ promise you’d be able to connect to Nami or Robin, right? God, you hope so.

Your phone buzzes a few times, but you ignore it for the moment and head inside.

The Baratie is a mellow place, some city band always playing lounge jazz from the small performance stage in the center of the dining area. Soft lights illuminate the tables and guests, making everything from pearl strings to diaper bags look absolutely radiant. It’s a place that, as long as you’ve known it, has always felt like somewhere where anyone of any wealth, race, or occupation can get along. The cooks are brusque and loud, the policies for getting thrown out are strict, and the head chef isn’t above throwing you out the front door himself. People don’t come here for polite service or a nice view or any other reason. When someone comes to Baratie, the only thing they ever come for is the food, and that kind of solidarity transcends any stereotype.

You fucking love it here.

True to your hypothesis, every table is either full or being cleaned off by the waitstaff, and there’s already a small line forming at the front of people waiting to be seated. A few of the regulars recognize you and greet you warmly, and you do the same, already feeling more at home than you feel anywhere else on this planet. You stick your head in the door to the kitchen, looking for your landlord, and holler his name when you see him.

“Huh?” The elderly man doesn’t even bother to turn towards you, only half-paying you any attention as he plates a dish with one hand and looks at an order sheet held firmly in the other. “What is it you want, brat?”

“You all good down here, geezer?”

He glares at you in a way that makes your stomach turn, then quickly hands off the order to one of the other chefs and walks towards you with the plated dish in hand. “I can handle anything that happens in this goddamn town without you, stupid kid. Hell, the _Saturday_ rush is worse than this. Table six, far end.”

He shoves the plate into your hands and walks off into the kitchen without letting you get in another word. You suppose that means you’re off the hook for the night—of course, that’ll probably bite you in the ass tomorrow when you’re forced to work all day instead of relaxing. The things you do for your friends.

You deliver the order to a beautiful young lady and somehow manage not to drool all over the carpet as you do. Then you slink back towards the restrooms and through a small curtain, ascending the steps to your room. It always smells nice here—perks of living in the attic above Santa Cruz’s best restaurant.

Quietly you change into more comfortable clothes and wash up for the night, then you sit down at your desk and open your laptop. You stick the SLINE server disc into the CD slot and get it started, watching the seizure-inducing animation until you get bored of waiting. Maybe you can message Nami to pass the time. Gosh, what you’d give to be on a close-enough level with Nami to just text her out of the blue. But no, that’s invading her privacy, she’d said she’d be on a date tonight, far be it from you to derive such a wonderful woman of a wonderful day.

Alright, fuck it, your phone has been vibrating like crazy. You thought you could avoid it for a little bit, get settled before dealing with your brothers. It’s probably Niji or Yonji sending you threats in the form of [vaguely ominous social media posts.](https://liquidisedfish.tumblr.com/post/176046813897/this-is-very-ominous)

It’s not your brothers.

R: hey it’s franky, is nami online?  
R: she went silent, we were talkin about some radical shit then she just cut out  
R: radical in the bad way  
R: like terrorists  
R: or math  
R: fuck.  
R: oh no oh fuck no  
R: NOPE  
R: FUCK OKAY SO THAT’S HOW THIS TOMFUCKERY IS GOIN DOWN  
R: fuck fuck shit fuuuuck  
R: that was so much cola...

You feel your heart start to beat a little faster. You switch to your computer—you type faster there.

S: Franky? Slow the fuck down, man. What the hell happened?  
S: And what happened to Nami???!!!  
R: i dont know, dude!  
R: fuck, fuck fuck  
R: someone just broke into my house and took all my electronics. my fuckin setup, man. my life!!!  
R: all i’ve got now is this shit ass burner phone  
S: What?!  
S: You’re kidding, right? Tom built half of that crap, nobody could jack it that easily, and besides, it’s way too big!  
R: no crap, my dude!  
R: i lost connection to nami’s setup while i was out, idk why but some weird shit has been happenin and fuck i don’t know what’s goin on with her right now  
S: What kind of weird shit? Weird as in, she’s just having fun in a weird and potentially *kinky* way, or weird as in, we’re all gonna fucking die?  
R: the second one.  
S: ...Maybe you could fucking elaborate???  
R: no time  
R: dude i’m not even tryin to do my typin quirk. look.  
R: wow.  
R: super.  
R: that felt gross  
R: ok sanji, i know you don’t like hackin a lot  
R: but i need your help  
R: nami has a burner phone that i gave her. it’s separate from her workstation.  
R: i’m gonna give you the number. get into the phone and figure out what’s goin on  
R: don’t text tho, i dunno if she’s okay or what yet  
R: find out if she’s safe, call her if you can, tell her to try and contact me  
R: 7025556264

You sit back from your desk for a moment, contemplating what he’s asking of you. He wants you to hack Nami’s phone. That feels wrong. Very wrong.

But what if she’s in trouble?

You pinch the bridge of your nose and exhale hard. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if something happened to her and you had an opportunity to help her. Hopefully you can apologize later.

S: ...Okay.  
S: I’m not crazy about this, but if it’s to protect Nami, then I’ll do it. <333  
R: dude thank you so much  
R: meantime, i’m gonna check on everyone else.  
R: somethin’s up around here and i gotta figure it out before someone else gets hurt  
S: Someone else? Geez, Franky, you’re actually starting to scare me at this point.  
S: Who got hurt?  
S: Franky?

No reply. He must be talking to other people right now.

You close your phone quickly, already hating this.

This is fucked up. Even as you pull up a few HTML windows, even while you’re connecting your laptop to the rig that Franky had sent you, you know it’s fucked up. You met Nami through Franky, he’s the one who suggested that you work with her to help her set up a few network connections. You’d managed to get her into the Germa 66 server your brothers run, which, while risky, also served the dual purpose of pissing off a couple of assholes. You’d do anything for her. Anything. But how _good_ exactly is it if it requires violating her privacy, something she always prides herself on preserving?

And still, that little warning flashes in your head. _Before someone else gets hurt._ You don’t know who Franky was referring to, but you sure as fuck don’t want Nami to be next.

You spend the next half hour in frustration as you try to get any sort of access to Nami’s burner that you can. But damn, Franky knows what the hell he’s doing, it’s practically untraceable. Intrusive thoughts start to take over rational sense, and the nagging thought of _Niji could do it_ threatens to make you put an axe kick through your desk. There’s nothing you can think of that might make this work.

Seething, you run another pointless program and lean back from your chair. The jazz downstairs fades for a moment, followed by applause. Maybe some food is what you need, to get your mind working right. Yeah. Food and jazz. You slink downstairs to the kitchen and seamlessly slip into an open workspace, navigating around your landlord and the numerous chefs like you were made for it. You _were_ made for it, you think. Hacking has never been what you were supposed to do with your life, despite what every Vinsmoke has told you. You belong in the kitchen.

You find yourself thinking a lot when you cook. It’s peaceful. Especially when you can do it for yourself, you just start working, and your mind wanders, a stream of consciousness with no rhyme or reason. You wonder what’s going on with Nami. Is she okay? You hope she’s okay. You hope it’s just a prank, and that she’ll be able to play SLINE tonight. Oh, shit, right. When you get back upstairs, you should probably tell Luffy and the others that you have to work tomorrow. Maybe they can still keep you in the loop tomorrow when they play, they could do a video stream through Denden—

Fucking idiot. The burner is a Mushi model, has to be, Franky is nothing if not a loyal customer. So why didn’t you just try hacking Denden?! You did it this afternoon with Zoro’s account, why shouldn’t you be able to do the same with hers? And maybe you can trace it back to her last known login location, use the coordinates to find the appropriate devices, and—

Your panini smolders forgotten in the press as you skid gracelessly through the kitchen and back to the stairway, slamming your bedroom door behind you and practically diving at your laptop. Muscle memory from earlier today leads you back to ddmushi.com, and this time, you make it into the account in barely ten minutes. You wish you could send a screenshot of this to Niji. Then again, you don’t want him knowing anything about Nami or her personal life, so gloating will have to be personal for now.

You go through the relevant logs, quickly finding what you need, and in a few minutes, you have a log of all the conversations Nami’s used the burner for. It’s only a few weeks old, so there’s not much before you get to the texts between Franky and Nami earlier today. It doesn’t take much context to realize that something is in fact, as Franky put it, “radical in the bad way.” You piece the texts together with the secure logs on Denden and basically figure out that Nami and Franky suddenly disconnected after investigating some weird meteor crap. Then an unknown number messaged Nami.

You open the texts.

MESSAGE RECEIVED FROM [UNKNOWN, Boston MA]

R: Hello, Miss Navigator~  
R: I don’t believe we’ve ever spoken before, though I must admit, I thought it would be much later.  
R: Be a darling and ask Miss Nefertari to close the door, would you?  
S: who the fuck are you?! and how the fuck do you know i’m not alone?  
R: I suppose you could say I have my ways.  
S: that’s not an answer!  
R: Miss Nefertari looks lovely today, doesn’t she? What a nice jacket~  
R: A pity. I suppose I should tell my contact to take her out of the equation, seeing as she won’t be leaving?  
R: I can’t imagine that seeing her grisly remains strewn across that poster back there would change your mind.  
S: alright, i fucking made her leave, christ!  
S: what the hell do you want?  
S: are you the one who cut the power?  
R: I suppose I can take the blame for that. Not entirely, but to a degree.  
R: Perhaps some exchange of favors would be in order? From what I’ve been told, you’re far more cooperative with those who work in your interests.  
R: You can tell Mister Cyborg that his friend is alive and well, I’m sure he’d be delighted to know that~  
S: alright, now i know you’re just screwing with me.  
S: ice is d e a d! he got hit by a meteor, you don’t get up from that. and how do you even know about that?  
S: gah, whatever! just turn on the power and fuck off.  
R: You are correct, Miss Navigator. Your friend did get hit by one of Skaia’s meteors, and the person you knew as Iceburg is most certainly dead, seeing as he was doomed anyway~  
R: However, the real Iceburg is in fact very much alive. He is currently alive and well in the Medium, awaiting our session.  
S: ...are you high?  
R: Wouldn’t you like to know~  
S: wonderful. a stoner has complete control over my electricity. fucking superb.  
R: Regardless of the contents of my blood, I assure you that I have not lied to you yet. Everything will unfold exactly how it is supposed to.  
R: And this brings us to my point.  
R: Miss Navigator, you are a very important piece of this puzzle. Much like all of us. Our connections transcend universes, realities. And if you do not help me complete this puzzle, the chances of our reality’s survival will decrease dramatically.  
R: I had hoped that assuring you about Iceburg’s safety would be enough to ensure your cooperation.  
R: Even threatening Miss Nefertari seems to have done nothing.  
R: What more will it take to convince you?  
S: i’m not listening to you. you’re so full of shit.  
S: heeeeello?  
S: oh thank fuck, you’re gone.  
S: ...stiillll could use that power though.

The time stamps on the texts stop for almost an hour.

R: Gone for only as long as I need to be. Tell me, do you think you’ll miss Bellemère?  
S: ...how do you know about her?  
R: I don’t believe you’ve been going about handling your grief the right way. Miss Nojiko doesn’t seem like quite the forgiving type, I doubt she’ll ever truly get over what you’re doing.  
S: okay, that’s fucking enough. bothering me and turning off my power is one thing. but you don’t get to talk about things you don’t know ANYTHING about.  
R: Do you really think Bellemère would want this? Do you think she would want you to break every law you know just to make sure she gets the treatment she needs so desperately?  
S: stop. just fucking stop!  
R: There are other ways, you know. Ways that don’t require ~too~ much fraud and laundering. For example, I happen to be in possession of more than enough money to pay for her operation, if you’d be willing to work with me.  
R: But more importantly, your assistance holds the key to a future where Bellemeré can be as she was meant to be. The mother you love and deserve. She’s waiting for you, exactly where Iceburg is waiting for Franky, and where...  
R: Well, I suppose I shouldn’t divulge more than what’s necessary. After all, I don’t quite trust myself to preserve time without some guidance~  
R: I’ll be sending you a contact request through DendenMushi, Miss Navigator. Speaking to you has been quite enlightening, but I’d much rather continue our conversation somewhere more accessible. After all, what we need to do will require mobility.  
R: There also isn’t much time to waste. It would be best if I gave you your instructions sooner rather than later, seeing as Chopper and Zoro are in more than enough danger as it is~  
R: I know your curiosity will win out, you’re a meteorologist at heart. If you happen to be interested in finding out how our entire conversation ties into the meteors currently besieging our planet unbeknownst to most of humanity as we know it, you know where to find me.  
R: On a side note, you seem nice. Forgive me for cutting your date night short.  
R: Luffy was right about you, Nami. You really are a smart girl~

The conversation ends there.

You feel nauseous as you try to put together what you just read. Someone was threatening Nami and Vivi, enough to make you more than just a little worried. It's pretty obvious that you just witnessed a lot of personal information that you weren't supposed to, but even if you ignored that, what about Nami right now? What if she’s hurt? What if that’s why she didn’t reply to her mystery contact?

No, wait. It said that there’d be a friend request in Denden. Maybe she did keep in contact.

Swallowing nervously, you go through Nami’s account, feeling less guilty about it now that you know she’s in danger. Yep, there it is. One new friend request, accepted recently, for...

Holy shit. That’s Robin’s username.

Holy fucking shit.

You stare at the username for a good three seconds until your computer screen goes dark. For a moment, the entire restaurant goes silent, the band pausing as if it somehow knew that silence was needed for a dramatic effect.

Your phone rings.

Jesus _shit_ , what did you just get yourself into.

Somehow, you know that there’s no other option. You shakily pick up the phone and accept the call.

A smooth woman’s voice chuckles from the other end. _“Hello, Mister Cook. Snooping, are we?”_

The lights in Baratie go out with a crash.

~ ~

====> Usopp: Lose track of time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for a whopper, folks. Next one will be long, and probably followed by a short break~


	6. ====> Usopp: Lose track of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kind of a tutorial for SLINE (mostly because I don’t wanna have to write this basic stuff too much, I’d rather jump into the good stuff)

\- -  kumacyHollow [KH]  opened log to  octoDisciples [OD]  \- -

KH: Y0u 0we me.  
OD: I know —>  
KH: N0, y0u really d0n’t.  
KH: If he finds 0ut I’m helping y0u sneak in, I’m just as fucked as Z0r0’s g0nna be. He’s lucky I was at the ph0ne instead 0f the hawk when his Sensei called!  
KH: Y0u’ve g0t the g00ds, right?  
OD: If by “the g00ds”, you mean whatever weird bone-y thing you have in this package, then yes.  
KH: It’s n0t weird! If anything, Y0U’RE weird f0r having access t0 it!  
KH: H0w in the hell d0es R0bin have access t0 restricted dig sites anyway?

You’d be lying if you said you understood anything about Robin. Then again, lying has always been one of your specialties.

You stop your typing for a moment to wince as the PA system blares through the traincar, announcing the next stop on the line. Nope, not yours yet. Yours is coming up soon, you’re pretty sure.

OD: Look, I don’t really know, and if we’re being real here, I don’t really care. All that matters is that you’re helping me out, and I’m helping you out, right?  
KH: Gah, yeah, I guESS.  
KH: Speaking 0f which. I managed t0 get his c0mputer 0ut 0f the hawk’s r00m while he was at w0rk, and I d0wnl0aded the stuff like y0u asked.  
OD: Great!  
OD: I really do appreciate it, honestly!!  
KH: Whatever. Just get here, d0 whatever y0u g0tta, then fuck 0ff.  
KH: And when y0u get here, d0n’t c0me in until I give y0u the all clear!

\- -  kumacyHollow [KH]  closed log to  octoDisciples [OD]  \- -

OD: Gotcha —>  
OD: Oh, bye, I guess?

Gosh. She really is annoying, isn’t she? But you weren’t lying. This is a mutually beneficial relationship the two of you have. You help her get her freaky ghostbusterkin obsession on, and she helps you break into her house, apparently.

...What exactly _are_ you doing, again?

Well, there’s always the surefire way to find out.

\- -  octoDisciples [OD]  opened log to  naiveReality [NR]  \- -

OD: Hi Robin!  
NR: ~~She raises multiple hands to you in a friendly wave.~~  
NR: ~~”Hello, Sniperking,” she says, bemused as she leafs through an interesting murder mystery novel.~~  
OD: (oh shit we’re already starting?!)  
OD: (ack hold on I’m not in character yet!)  
NR: (Take your time~)  
OD: *The heroic Sniperking waves hello to his brave comrade from atop a steed!*  
OD: *No, wait, THREE steeds, stacked on top of each other!*  
NR: (ooh!)  
NR: ~~A quiet parade of whinnies catches her attention—she closes her novel to behold your mount, a trio of fabled Jenga Steeds. She’s heard of their majesty in her research, but never once has she seen them stacked in the flesh.~~  
NR: ~~She appears to be quite impressed by the steeds’ clear violation of the laws of gravity, and chuckles quietly.~~  
OD: *”HELLO, MY BRAVE COMRADE!”*  
OD: No, wait, shit, that’s not good writing, I can’t use the same descriptor for you twice in a row!  
OD: Hold on I can fix this —>  
NR: Fufufu~  
NR: Usopp, you don’t have to worry about that with me.  
OD: Ah, crap. I messed it up again, didn’t I?  
NR: Not at all. I greatly appreciate any willingness to indulge my bizarre requests, and of course this includes my roleplaying interests.  
OD: I know, I know, but I can’t help it!  
OD: The story’s just...it’s gotta be good, y’know?  
NR: Of course.  
NR: Well, I think it was starting off wonderfully.  
OD: Really?  
NR: Absolutely~

You smile a bit to yourself. Robin may be a bigger enigma than the Loch Ness Seaking, but she’s still hella fun to talk to. She’s kind of like Luffy, if Luffy knew how to have proper grammar and common sense. A really, _really_ smart, proper Luffy...who...always knows things...

You think this comparison is starting to fall a little flat.

NR: Any update?  
OD: Yeah, actually! She’s gonna let me in, and she got the computer.  
OD: By the way, I get that there’s no point in asking, but how did you know that Zoro’s gonna get megagrounded?  
NR: A multitude of reasons, some of which I don’t believe you’re ready for.  
NR: But if it helps, you probably wound up setting the events into motion anyway~  
OD: ...That...  
OD: Doesn’t help, actually.  
OD: Are you saying that —>I’m<— going to get him grounded?  
NR: Maybe~

You roll your eyes.

OD: Bluh, forget I asked —>  
OD: Are we at the point where you can explain some more about why this game is so important?  
NR: I believe you will understand on your own eventually~  
OD: So, no.  
NR: Usopp, for the time being, I simply ask that you trust me. I was right about Kuro, wasn’t I?

You pause for a moment, the mere mention of the name making you feel nauseous. She’d warned you about your girlfriend’s butler, yeah. You’d already suspected the bastard of being evil, or as evil as a butler can be, at least—which is pretty damn evil if you do say so yourself, seeing as he’d murdered Kaya’s parents years before and was planning to do the same to Kaya herself. He’d even tried to corner you once he’d realized you had caught on. If Robin hadn’t pointed you in the right direction to some old security footage of the dastardly act, you might not even be alive right now. And Kaya would definitely be dead.

Outside, the brakes start to hiss, your train slowly juddering to a stop, but you’re really not focused on that.

You still don’t know how she knew. But she was right. And that’s what matters.

OD: Yeah.  
OD: I trust you, Robin. You know I do.  
OD: Oh, shit, my stop’s here! I gotta go —>  
NR: Of course.  
NR: Don’t die horrifically~

\- -  naiveReality [NR]  closed log to  octoDisciples [OD]  \- -

OD: WOW thanks —>

Comforting as always. You sigh and rise from your seat as the train’s many passengers start to disembark, her farewell repeating in your mind on loop. Does she think you’re gonna die?

Nico Robin’s predictions always come true.

That in mind, you eye the gap between the train and the platform warily as you hop over it entirely. And guess what? You don’t die.

You suppose that’s a start.

~

A half-hour Uber ride later, you’re somewhere in Aspen, you think. It’s pretty rich and prissy around here, nothing like yours and Kaya’s place. Big mansions, hedge mazes, stuff like that. Right, it’s still weird to imagine Zoro as a rich kid, considering he acts like a broke frat boy. Perona, though, it makes sense for her.

Your driver pulls up quietly to the mansion in question, a gothic nightmare if ever there was one. Jesus, you can already feel your knees clacking together. Even the _sky_ is creepy, the moon’s already visible and the sun hasn’t even begun to set yet. You hate this kind of stuff. Spooky shit has never been your forte.

As you exit and thank the driver, you pull out your phone again, struggling to balance it against Perona’s bribe-in-a-box.

\- -  octoDisciples [OD]  opened log to  kumacyHollow [KH]  \- -

OD: Alright, I’m outside your Transylvanian hell castle.  
KH: H0ld 0n! I’m getting the hawk 0ut 0f y0ur way, just hide behind Z0r0’s car until I text y0u.

...Hide?

_Don’t die horrifically~_

Gah. Robin, why are you like this? You roll your eyes in agitation and approach what has to be the most neglected vehicle you’ve ever seen in your life, setting down the package and leaning your body against the car so you can catch a breath—

The house door opens suddenly and sharply, and you just barely swallow your scream as you press your face against the window of Zoro’s car. You catch a shaky glimpse of Zoro’s guardian as he steps out onto the front porch— _Jesus,_ okay, that’s a real sword in his hand, what the fuck, that thing is _gigantic?!_

_Don’t die horrifically~_

The man’s eyes slide over the car analytically, as if he knows you’re there. Fuck, he looks angry. You press yourself down against the ground, looking under the car to catch a view of ornate black boots as they just—poof—vanish.

Silence. You’re half expecting a horror-movie kind of bullshit thing where he’s gonna appear right behind you like some sort of creepy serial killer. Of course, though, you’re not gonna turn around and check like an idiot, because if he _was_ some sort of creepy serial killer, that would be the point when he stabs you.

Your phone buzzes and you scream.

KH: 0kay, he’s distracted.  
OD: —>DISTRACTED MY ASS<—  
OD: —>DISTRACTED IS SUPPOSED TO MEAN AWAY FROM ME<—  
KH: D0n’t be such a pussy, l0ngn0se!  
KH: Wait s0rry  
KH: I f0rg0t y0u c0uldn’t p0ssibly kn0w what pussy is, seeing as y0u’ll pr0bably never get any X.X  
OD: ޏ₍ •̀O•́₎ރ  
KH: The fr0nt d00r’s unl0cked, just c0me upstairs and wait in my r00m until the hawk leaves Z0r0’s r00m.  
KH: QUIETLY.  
KH: AND D0N’T T0UCH ANYTHING.

You swallow your terror around the massive knot that’s formed in your throat and slowly peek out from behind the car. Mr. Mihawk doesn’t seem to be anywhere. After a few absolutely unbearable seconds, you spin around suddenly and pull out your slingshot, putting on your war face just in case. Nothing—guess she really did get him out of your way.

Tentatively, you approach the front door of the house and nudge it open. Unlocked, just like she said. Inside, it just looks even more like a castle, but it’s hard to admire when you’re still slightly scared for your life.

_Don’t die horrifically~_

Goddamnit. Robin, why? Why does she do this?

You scramble up a marble staircase and into Perona’s room, easily found by the spiderweb lace adorning the entryway. You’ve barely gotten a look around when she bursts in and closes the door behind her.

“You have it?” she snaps, arms folded across her chest petulantly. 

“Of _course_ I do!” You roll your eyes and heave the box onto her desk—she’s on it with a pocketknife immediately. As soon as she sees what’s inside, she squeals with glee.

“Aah!! You did it, Longnose! Gosh, it’s even cuter than I imagined it would be!” she practically oozes as she pulls some terrifying skull out of the box and bounds over to a display case to put it away.

To distract yourself from the number of fangs that thing has, you ask, “So, uh, Zoro?”

“Grounded as fuck,” she confirms, still positioning the new addition to her collection appropriately. “Laptop’s on the bed, he’s down the hall.” 

Considering she’s not screaming at you to leave, she seems grateful. Still, you don’t wanna push it. You captchalogue Zoro’s laptop, thank her hurriedly, and abscond.

Zoro’s door looks plain, albeit slightly beat-up, like everything he seems to have. You knock a quick rhythm, then try the door. It’s open—

There’s a blade to your throat before you even have it all the way open, and if you didn’t have any common sense, you just know you’d be screaming yourself into a coma right now. Oh, wait, no, you’re still screaming. Whoops.

“What the—Usopp?!” Zoro’s feral eyes suddenly look confused as fuck as he pulls the pen away, dragging you into the room and shutting the door behind you. “What the hell are you doing in my house?!”

_“PeronaletmeinImsosorryZorojesuschristwhydoyouhaveapenwhymanImjustaninnocentwholesomeboyfromMinnesotawhywouldyoudothistomeheheeeee?!”_

“That bitch?” He frowns. “Fuck, why would she let you in? All she ever does is ruin everything. Also, stop screaming. STOP SCREAMING!”

_“THEN STOP SHAKING ME!”_ You regain a sliver of sanity as Zoro roughly shakes your shoulder and pathetically slap-fight him away—he lets you go as a courtesy. In a huff you pull his laptop from your sylladex and do the same with yours, watching as Zoro’s eyes light up with surprise. “Look, I’m just here to help you get SLINE set up! Robin told me you’d get megagrounded, so I came down to help.”

“But...how’d she—“ He stops, probably also realizing the stupidity of his question, and amends it. “Did you get my swords?”

“No.” You settle down on the floor at the foot of his bed, opening up your server copy of SLINE and Zoro’s client copy. “Don’t you always have them?”

“Well, _yeah,_ but I’m also megagrounded, remember?” he snaps. “He took all my specibi. They’re in the hawk’s room, I just figured that if you had the computer, you’d have them too.”

Offhandedly, you notice that Zoro’s room looks even emptier than usual—no swords, no weapons of any kind, none of the trophies or posters that you’ve come to recognize through video chats, nothing decorative at all—and even Zoro looks a bit more beat-up and bare than usual. Then you realize that _you_ told Perona to distract Mr. Mihawk, and in order to do so, _she_ got Zoro grounded, which probably led to a bad strife, so technically Robin was right and the megagrounding _is_ your fault. Good ol’ Robin, right as always.

_Don’t die horrifically~_

A shudder courses through your body and Zoro gives you a look—you don’t think this is the best time to explain the issue to him. “No, sorry. Maybe Perona can sneak some of them back?”

He rolls his eyes and takes his computer from you, putting his credentials in and starting up the game on his end. A quick message to Perona reveals that she has no more interest in helping you if you don’t have any more _“cute dead 0bjects f0r the w0nder garden”_ , so Zoro’s on his own. He did almost decapitate you with a pen though, so how badly could he really need his swords?

“Looks like we’ll have to make do for the moment. What’s the wifi password?” you ask.

_“Akagami,”_ he says, placing the computer on his bed so he can glare over your shoulder as you prepare the game yourself.

You complete your login and get SLINE started, watching as your screen strobes with these weird geometric patterns during the bootup. You think there might be a couple of skulls or faces in there, but that could also just be your morbid interactions with Robin and Perona rubbing off on you.

When your game finally loads, it brings up some area interaction window, full of controls and items that you can deploy, as well as a few units of some material called [BUILD GRIST](http://mspaintadventures.wikia.com/wiki/Grist). The window itself is blank, save for a single line of text that says, _ENTER VOYAGE? Y / N._

You press the Y key and watch as a single plain room takes over the screen. There are two people in it, both of their backs to you—a tall, slender guy with green hair, and a smaller one with a bandanna huddled over his compute _wait a fuck._

You take an obligatory moment of silence for the concept of reality before sticking out a hand to the side and watching as the sitting figure on the ground does the same. A look over your shoulder proves there’s no secret camera on the wall. Okay. Weird. Weird as _fuck,_ but then again, Robin suggested this game to you, so not entirely surprising that this game can integrate itself with the fabric of your very existence.

There’s a cursor on the screen, hovering just above your head. You chance a look up and there it is, god _damn_ , this is cool. You close your eyes and breathe—okay, Usopp, pull it together. Devil fruits exist—and even if that weren’t true, you’re friends with Luffy and Robin, this _isn’t_ the weirdest thing they’ve ever shown you before.

“Um, what the _fuck,_ ” Zoro says, being the sane one who isn’t entirely used to Robin’s fuckery.

“What do you mean, ‘what the fuck’? Clearly, _that_ the fuck,” you reply with a gesture to the cursor, which apparently Zoro didn’t notice because he mumbles another swear when he looks at it. You try to choose your words carefully. “I...I think this game has some ability to affect reality? Just a hunch so far, I won’t really know unless I try it, but I mean, either it’s _that_ or this game is making us hallucinate, and that seems kind of far-fetched??”

Two blank eyes stare back at you. Christ, he’s useless sometimes. Good thing he isn’t your server player. You suppose you’re just going to have to hold his hand through this, not literally, but...actually wait.

Out of curiosity, you try and click Zoro. Unlike what you were expecting—something along the lines of him instantly murdering you—he just flinches and swats it away. “ _—Hey!_ Watch where you point that thing,” he snaps.

“So it _does_ affect reality,” you muse, quickly trying to pick up other objects. It seems as though anything of a reasonable size can be lifted, besides Zoro and yourself.

“Great,” says Zoro, suggesting the opposite.

You wave his worries away with a grin. “Relax, Zoro! I may not be much good with fighting like you, but if there’s one thing I can handle like a champ, it’s a sandbox RPG. Looks like it’s my job to guide you through this mess, at least until we figure out the end goal of the game.”

And just like that, you take over. Still mumbling to yourself, you ignore Zoro and use the zoom functions to look around the house. You can edit almost anything in the mansion if you have the grist for it, except for a room on the far end of this hallway that’s probably Mr. Mihawk’s room. Perona’s in her room, stirring up friendly conversation with a few of her creepy ghosts, and Mr. Mihawk is somewhere you can’t see. Probably best to keep an eye on him so you don’t die horrifically.

Zoro looks somewhere between completely lost and utterly resigned as you start going through the object menus, trying to figure out what you should deploy first. There’s a small free item, it looks like a [CAPTCHALOGUE CARD](http://mspaintadventures.wikia.com/wiki/Sylladex#Punched_Captchalogue_Card) with a bunch of holes in it, you deploy it and pass it to Zoro, who just kinda holds onto it. You wind up putting all three of the larger free items down along the wall of the room (his room, it’s just...it’s really big) and then put your computer down so you can take a look at them. You’re still not _entirely_ convinced this is real, but hell, why the fuck not? Might as well just roll with it—after all, if you _are_ going to die horrifically, doing so in a video game seems like a decent way to go.

You and Zoro look over the first item. It’s called a [CRUXTRUDER](http://mspaintadventures.wikia.com/wiki/Cruxtruder), and on top of the base there’s this weird cylindrical capsule with a small wheel on the side. When you try and turn the wheel, the top of the capsule tries to pop off, but for some reason it’s stuck. Clicking on it does nothing either. Maybe you need something stronger to open it—

“Let me try.” As if you thinking the word _“stronger”_ had called his name, Zoro walks forward and tries the wheel. When that doesn’t work, he just slams a fist down onto the capsule.

You shriek and hastily dodge as the force of the blow sends shards of the capsule’s top hurtling across the room. Likewise, Zoro is blown back from the impact. The Cruxtruder sparks a deep green a few times, then violently expels some sort of glowing, psychedelic sphere that flashes with the same color.

The two of you stare at it for a moment before Zoro says, “I should touch it.”

“What are you, _crazy?!_ ” you exclaim. “What if it blows your hand off?”

“Then that’s the price I pay for playing this game,” he replies darkly. Yikes, okay, steering clear of _that_ land mine.

“W-well, that doesn’t change the fact that it’s a video game construct! What if that thing is dangerous? Don’t touch it yourself, use something that you won’t mind destroying.”

He thinks for a moment, then walks over to his desk and starts rummaging through a drawer—you note how the sphere follows him. Makes sense, he’s the player after all. You take the opportunity to try the wheel on the Cruxtruder again—this time, it works, and it sends out a plain cylindrical object that your laptop tells you is called a [CRUXITE DOWEL.](http://mspaintadventures.wikia.com/wiki/Cruxite#Dowels)

Zoro finally turns back to you and reveals a pair of dusty, semi-cracked glasses. “Don’t need these anymore,” he mutters, and underhand lobs them at the sphere.

It flashes again, brighter this time, and when you can finally look at it again, it looks practically the same, except now it’s wearing glasses. Dope. It’s making some weird sounds too, kind of like glass cracking, but with different tones and pitches that are honestly slightly unsettling.

Zoro looks at it for a few long moments before he notices something else. “Hey, Usopp. What the hell is that?” You follow his gesture to the base of the Cruxtruder, where a semi-cracked screen is counting down a timer. It reads _6:09_ at the moment, but you don’t know when it started.

Well, shit. What’s it counting down to?

_Don’t die horrifically~_

You decide you’re not going to stick around long enough to find out.

“A time limit,” you hazard a guess. “Come on, let’s figure out the rest of this stuff quickly.”

You hand Zoro the dowel and begin investigating the other two contraptions, the [TOTEM LATHE](http://mspaintadventures.wikia.com/wiki/Totem_Lathe) and the [ALCHEMITER](http://mspaintadventures.wikia.com/wiki/Alchemiter). The Totem Lathe has a slot for a captchalogue card and looks kind of like one of those things that woodworkers use to carve things while they spin. The Alchemiter is this large platform with a huge folded-up laser thingie on the side of it, as well as a smaller platform that you figure you should probably put something on. Zoro’s actually the one who has the idea of putting the dowel and the holepunched captchalogue card into the lathe, the result of which is the lathe carving the dowel into a new shape.

On some sort of odd hunch, you put the newly carved dowel onto the smaller Alchemiter platform, and the device automatically activates. After a few moments of moving parts and flashing lights, a single green katana appears on the Alchemiter’s main platform.

Zoro grabs it instantly and immediately starts swinging it around. “Whoa,” he says, as if that explains everything.

“... _’Whoa’_ , what?”

“It’s like...weird,” he says, again, just as explanatory.

You glare at him. “Zoro, we’re _literally_ on a time limit here, what’s weird about it?”

He thinks for a moment, swishing it around a few more times. “Well. It’s super light, but balanced like it’s made of metal, for one thing. And it’s entirely green, for another. And it’s dull.”

“Is it usable?”

He scoffs. “For cleaning a gutter maybe.”

“Cool, so I guess we just made a weird-looking sword,” you mutter. “What a waste of time.”

“Hey, don’t blame me for this cheap piece of shit. Technically, _you_ made it,” he reminds you, pointing the sword in your direction accusingly.

You’re about to try and come up with some kind of rebuttal when Zoro’s door slams open. Zoro lowers the sword and you practically jump out of your skin as Mr. Mihawk stalks into the room, that huge-ass terrifying sword you saw before held firmly in one hand.

“Zoro. What are you...” Mr. Mihawk trails off mid-sentence, taking in the SLINE constructs that are laying against the wall, the timer, the glowing glasses-orb-thing, and worst of all, _you_. “I wasn’t aware that we were inviting guests,” he says flatly, the words dripping with poison.

Oh, you get it. This is where Robin’s prediction comes true, right?

Zoro’s reply, amazingly, is almost as passive-aggressive as his guardian’s. “He _wasn't_ invited. Why would I invite someone over when I’m grounded?”

You chance a look at Zoro and see his grip on his shitty sword waver slightly. He’s _nervous_. Yeah, okay, Mr. Mihawk is going to kill you, horrifically if possible. Your head feels kind of fuzzy at that thought—you’re just straight-up about to die, but oh well, Robin _did_ warn you so you suppose you don’t have much of an excuse to be scared so whatever.

“You two have no idea what you’ve started,” Mr. Mihawk says suddenly, more of a statement than an accusation. His glare narrowing, he crouches slightly and grips the hilt of his sword with both hands. “Unfortunately, I’ll have to dispose of you both before this farce can deteriorate any further.”

There’s a blur of air and the man is gone—you barely have time to scream before Zoro is suddenly in front of you and blocking a blow from his guardian, but the man is far too strong for Zoro and you just stare in awe as his blade completely shatters Zoro’s down to the hilt and he follows through with the slash and there’s blood all of a sudden and Zoro cries out in pain with a hand to his eye and _something glows bright and violent in the window and_ then you wake up on the street.

You lie there for a moment, on your back, staring up at the cloudy night sky above you as a light snow falls around you. Was it night before? You don’t think it was.

Your brain tries to discern the jump in time—what you remember, and where you are now, and what happened in between. You were at Zoro’s house, you were playing a game, and then something went bright and hot and then you woke up here.

You sit up.

Zoro’s house is gone. All that’s there is a massive mansion-sized crater, smoldering slightly. Zoro’s car has been halved by whatever made the crater, the back half of the vehicle also smoking.

There is no sign of your friend. For all intents and purposes, Roronoa Zoro is gone too. 

You still feel a bit like this should be impacting you harder, but your brain still feels fuzzy. You feel as if something is whispering in your head, telling you that this was inevitable, and yet, you know for a fact that this is so massively fucked up.

Your belongings are beside you somehow, your laptop open. Your SLINE window simply says _CLIENT CONNECTION LOST_. Just like Zoro to get lost.

You check your phone. There are hundreds—yes, hundreds—of missed messages from most of your friends. A quick glance at the clock reveals that it’s well past midnight. You read some of them, but nothing really gets through to you, it’s basically just a bunch of _”where are you”_ s and _“shit’s fucked”_ s, which you’re already well aware of. Only one of the message threads really matters to you. Kaya’s been trying to reach you since before you even got to Zoro’s house, she even tried messaging Kuina to help find you. You’re not sure how to respond just yet, so you don’t—after all, you have a much more pressing question that needs answering.

\- -  octoDisciples [OD]  opened log to  naiveReality [NR]  \- -

OD: Hey Robin?  
OD: What the fuck just happened?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

====> Brook: ...STRIFE!!!...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love time shenanigans :)


	7. ====> Brook: ...STRIFE!!!...?

When people mention “bringing the house down,” this is never what you expect.

There’s a CRASH somewhere close by, so sharp that you nearly jump out of your skin because good _lord_ that was loud! And apparently it’s just as disruptive to everyone else because suddenly there’s a whole lot of surprised murmuring and speculation. For a moment, the lights flicker ominously, only making the conversation grow more intense.

You’re part of a band of musicians, you can sense when the mood of your audience shifts. One by one, your band falls silent—you’re among the last to stop, apparently your fingers just want to keep hitting the keys regardless of how startled you are.

Another loud bang rings out—this time, you identify it as something heavy slamming into metal—and you finally register your own surprise enough to stop playing. A second later, you hear an electric whine fade away within Baratie as, machine by machine, all the power goes out.

The murmurs quickly swell to a clamor, the entire clientele of the restaurant mobilizing as a unit of chaos. You hop to your feet and grab your cane from your sylladex, and Yorki looks back at you from his seat on the edge of Baratie’s stage. The two of you have played hundreds if not thousands of concerts together, and, if your gut is right, this situation is going to need some crowd control. With a nod to him, you jump onto your piano bench and raise your voice to get everyone’s attention—he’s already got a candle from the nearest table and somehow found some shiny dish to reflect it onto you as some sort of impromptu spotlight. What a man.

“My friends!” you enunciate, watching as your lecture voice drags people’s attention to you. “I assure you, there’s no cause for alarm. I’m sure the power will be back on shortly, and we can all laugh about it until our lungs collapse, yohohoho!”

Apparently that does some good for everyone’s nerves, as friendly (albeit tense) chatter returns to the dining room. You catch the eye of the establishment owner, Zeff, and nod at him as a way of acknowledgement. He nods back once, grateful and gruff, before heading back into the kitchen to supposedly handle the problem.

You hop down, forgetting your back for a moment, and wince as you land, grateful to your cane for existing. Yorki’s already at your side, helping you get your balance back. Bless his heart.

“Honestly,” he says, eyes narrowed in concern. “Sometimes I think you forget your age, Brook.”

“Yohoho, whatever do you mean?” Sometimes you think your husband forgets that you’re just barely fifty-five. That’s not too old to have a little fun, is it?

The two of you lock eyes until you can see the fight leave him. Sensing he won’t win this one, he shuts his trap and releases you, then starts directing the rest of the Rum Beats to distribute candles among the dining room population. You stretch for a moment before considering your options. The room has already been calm for a few minutes, and the band seems to have things well in hand, but you suppose you should probably help? Then again, you’re such a klutz, the chances of you helping instead of hurting are likely as small as the smallest bone in your entire body. Which one is that again? You think it’s the mitochondria—you don’t _actually_ , but the last time your students emailed you a funny anatomy joke it had been about the [mitochondria](https://knowyourmeme.com/memes/mitochondria-is-the-powerhouse-of-the-cell) and you’d laughed so hard milk had come out your nose so you suppose that when biology comes up in conversation it’s your default reply. Unbelievable, you claim to have such a grasp on anatomy, but when someone wants you to name the smallest bone in your body, your answer is the mitochondria. For goodness’ sake, that’s not even a _bone—_

Suddenly there’s a crash of pots and knives from the kitchen, followed by some yelling and cussing and another bang and then two creatures in shiny black suits and hats dash out of the back room like their lives depend on it.

For a moment, you stare at them, sizing up the short round one and the taller slender one, wondering what crazy species they must be from and why they’d be in such a rush to leave the restaurant. Then you notice Zeff chasing them down with a carving knife and realize that their lives probably _do_ depend on them running like all hell has broken loose behind them.

It’s fairly obvious that they’re trying to escape through the front door, and well, you won’t stand for it. You will run for it though! You jump down from the stage and weave your way through the tables, apologizing as you squeeze past a few busy families, and position yourself visibly between the doorway and the two noir creatures. “Yoho! That’s far enough, hoodlums!” They turn on their heels and dash away from you and the chefs in the only viable direction, towards a small curtain by the restrooms.

The tall one snaps something to the stumpy little nervous one, and as it pushes through the curtain, the small one remains behind, fidgeting in what seems like terror as it frantically pulls out a cane from its sylladex and brandishes it madly like a cross between a baseball bat and a fairy wand. It...it almost seems endearing??

Nevertheless, you remember that you’ve got another creature left to deal with, and reluctantly, you approach the small stout one and disarm it with a single swipe of your cane. Rather than attempting to put up a fight, instead it just makes a terrified noise and starts running around in circles. You realize that it barely comes up to your knee, poor little thing.

“Pardon, yoho~”

You carefully lift a lanky leg and step over your disarmed foe, heading through the curtain. It’s fairly nondescript here, just a small storage area for nonperishables and a staircase heading up. You vaguely hear some thumping from upstairs—your foe must be in the attic.

For some reason you can’t bring yourself to ascend any quicker than you already are, so you calmly traipse up the stairs, swinging your cane a bit. You have to duck down quite considerably just to fit in the doorframe as you push the door open—immediately, you feel the air pressure change, and you release the door to brace your cane with both hands as what you think looks like a cue stick whips around and clatters hard on your weapon, wood clanking noisily on wood.

You chuckle, the sound considerably more sinister than before, and push your assailant back, barging into the room. It— _he_ , you notice from his features up close—growls in annoyance and straightens up, though his hand is still holding tight to the cue stick. He seems like he might be tall, if you weren’t such a freak of nature by comparison.

On a whim, you bow at the waist, leaning slightly on your cane to right yourself as you feel something funky happening in your spinal column. Gosh, ouch, you should stop doing that. “Oof. Er. Pardon me, but I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced?”

For a moment, he stares at you blankly. Maybe the poor man’s confused?

After another tense moment, you tip your hat to him. “You may refer to me as Professor Rumbar if you choose, but then again, most people just call me Brook, yoho~”

“...We were fightin’,” is his terse reply. He says it like he can’t believe this is a conversation he’s indulging.

Still, it’s a reply. You laugh loosely. “Yes, I’m aware, but see, I’m rather old and a bit scatterbrained and I tend to forget about those things pretty easy so—“

“I know who you are. You’re the musician,” he snaps back plainly. Then he points over your shoulder, a bit to your right. “That tyke’s the cook.”

You follow his direction and see...oh, dear, that boy looks familiar. He’s one of the students at the university, right? Not one of yours, no, but you certainly see him around your department fairly often. From the looks of it, he’s unconscious. Another look around reveals that this attic is some sort of makeshift bedroom. It’s fairly small and tidy, save for the numerous magazines strewn around the floor and sticking out from under the bed. What a studious boy he must be.

“Oh, dear,” you mutter, echoing your thoughts. You turn back to your assailant, your voice darkening in a slight threat. “Was this your doing?”

No reply, just a narrowing of the eyes again.

“...I see.” You don’t really. “Well, if you could just hold on for a moment?”

You start to turn towards the student—is his name Sanji? That somehow sounds right—when the man speaks sharply, cutting you off.

“We were in the middle of a fight, musician. There’s no holdin’ on in a strife.”

There it is again. How does he know you’re a musician? Oh, right, you were performing on stage just a few minutes ago. Your gaze flickers between the boy and your assailant, almost petulant. “Well, yes, I suppose, but see, couldn’t we just hold off on our battle to the death for—“ You close one eye and bring your forefinger and thumb together— “ _just_ a minute?”

He opens his mouth and closes it a few times, obviously trying to figure out whether or not you’re an idiot (debatable) and you take the opportunity to investigate the young student regardless. He seems to be unconscious, but there’s an odd expression on his face, almost bordering on...well, it looks like he passed out while thinking some very nice thoughts. His phone is in his hand, conveniently unlocked, and it appears to be open to a group Denden conversation. You suppose a bit of a snoop wouldn’t be the end of the world.

EG: Alright, ~ladies~ <333  
EG: Everything’s all set and ready to go, Nami dear! <333  
EG: Just put something in that glowy orb and we can get you on your way to  
EG: What was it again, Robin darling???  
NR: The Medium~  
EG: Thank you!!! <333  
FF: whoa, wait, i’ve still got five minutes left on my timer.  
FF: how did you get all this stuff working so fast??  
EG: Anything for my lovely angels!!! <333  
NR: Apparently so. I appreciate your enthusiasm, Mister Cook~  
NR: Thanks to your expertise with programming and your knowledge of RPGs, you’ve excelled above and beyond the standards I had originally held you to. Some might even call this the game’s equivalent of a speed run.  
EG: Oh stop it, you’re making me blush! <333<333<333  
FF: great, the expression of <3 just lost all meaning.  
FF: so what now? i have a compass and a floating orb.  
NR: A sprite. It needs to be prototyped before you use your item—this way, we can ensure your safe entry to the Medium.  
NR: However, you must be careful in your prototyping, we can’t afford a catastrophic choice of additions.  
FF: uh.  
FF: so, i’m not an “mlg” gamer as the dorks say, what does this mean again?  
EG: (When she says “dorks” she means “Luffy”, Robin darling~)  
NR: I’ll try to be brief~  
NR: Miss Navigator, your sprite will act as your guide throughout the Medium, educating you on the appropriate means of traversing your world and completing your quest.  
NR: But additionally, the final boss of the game will inherit some trait of whatever it is you choose to prototype.  
NR: Say you throw in a hideous monster that eats children. Our final boss could potentially inherit that unending gluttony and lust for human flesh. Or you prototype the sprite with a puppy, and the final boss could inherit its razor-sharp teeth and claws~  
FF: wow okay that’s fucking horrifying.  
NR: Well, as long as you make it something that can vocalize, it can be something as non-threatening as you’d like.  
EG: ...What happens if you add a person into the sprite?  
NR: Hm. Ideally they would gain enough knowledge to guide you through the game, while still maintaining their personality. However  
FF: a person? like who?  
FF: oh shit wait! vivi!  
NR: Oh dear.  
NR: Wait no, you shouldn’t just  
EG: Then you’d be able to bring her into the game too, right?!  
FF: holy shit sanji you’re an absolute genius i love you i gotta go get vivi  
EG: you  
EG: i  
EG:  
EG: oh  
NR: Wait, Miss Navigator!  
EG:  
EG: ighufhhgffffhghfhhfh  
NR: This is an alarmingly bad idea, I highly suggest you don’t go through with it!  
NR: Nami, please don’t be hasty, the consequences of this could be unprecedented.  
FF: sorry robin but i’ve got a gf to prototype!  
EG: hbjdjhvbhhhhhhhhffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff

\- -  flightyFingers [FF]  has left the alliance - -

EG: fffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffhhhhjhdghfffgdfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff  
NR: ...Sanji what are you doing?  
EG: ffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffggfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff  
NR: I’m sending help.

You lift Sanji’s hand and notice that his finger has been pressing the “F” key for what you assume has been a very long time. Doesn’t seem like a very [respectful](https://knowyourmeme.com/memes/press-f-to-pay-respects) thing to do.

“Hmm,” you muse aloud, glancing at Sanji’s laptop that has a single screen that simply reads, _CLIENT CONNECTION LOST_. You may not be very well versed in technology and the lingo of the kids these days, but you recognize Robin’s typing style and username, as well as the references to young Luffy and that game that you agreed to play with them. Whatever’s running on Sanji’s laptop must be connected to this as well. Apparently, Sanji here is one of her other recruits, and the game is already getting set into motion.

You turn back to your assailant—is he still that? Who knows. He’s no longer paying any attention to you regardless. Instead he’s mumbling into what looks like an oldschool phone. It actually looks a lot like your old one, before you lost it.

You open your mouth to say something to him, presumably to ask why he’s here, but before you can he suddenly thrusts the phone out towards you. “Take it.”

“Uhh, ok?”

Tentatively, you press the speaker button (holding the phone to your ear always gives you a headache). “Good day to you, Professor Rumbar speaking, I’m all ears~”

_“Hello, Professor.”_

“...Miss Robin?” A bit surprised, some of the levity leaves your voice.

 _“Yes,”_ she says, her voice somewhat garbled by the speakers. But even still, it’s not hard to hear the strain in her voice. She seems...you think it sounds like stress. You don’t think you’ve ever heard her sound like that. _“I’m sorry that we had to disturb your gig. From what I understand, the Rum Beats were as immaculate as ever.”_

Your heart sinks at hearing the dismayed note in your student’s voice. Most people wouldn’t recognize it, but you’ve known Robin for a good number of years, and you’ve learned to pick up on things. “Miss Robin, is something wrong?”

 _“Unfortunately, I can’t explain anything that I haven’t already told you or the others. Again, I have to apologize for my methods—I thought for sure that they wouldn’t…”_ She takes a deep breath, seemingly ending that train of thought. _“Professor, I need you to do me a favor. Remember that game that I told you about?”_

“Yes, of course! I look forward to playing, yoho!”

_“I need you to load it up now and set up Sanji’s game.”_

“Er.” So soon? You flash an embarrassed look at your friend/enemy in noir, who still looks like he can’t believe any of this is happening. “Miss Robin. I don’t know how to tell you this, but I’m in the middle of a gig. Could you possibly wait until the morning?”

_“Professor, people are going to die if you don’t play. Your husband. Your entire band. Your students. Everyone that matters to you. If we can save even nine of us, it could be enough to change things, don’t you agree?”_

Oh. Well that’s depressing. Still, she makes a convincing argument...wait, does she, though? Are there any facts to back anything she’s saying up? Oh well. You trust her, you suppose a game that kills everyone you know and love isn’t something she would lie about.

“Well, alright then, Miss Robin,” you say, not quite seriously, but definitely not in the jovial tone you used before. “I suppose I can leave early, considering that we can’t really do our gig without the power on in Baratie~”

 _“Oh, wonderful. Thank you, Professor,”_ she says, and with the level of emotion you can hear in her tone, it’s practically like she’s gushing. _“I’m terribly sorry about the outage. I thought for sure that Deuce and Droog would be able to assist Mister Cook in a more...passive way.”_

“Not my fault,” your nemessassin says bluntly. “Deuce said he had an idea for a distraction, I didn’t expect him to start wailin’ on the generator.”

_“Yes, I’m sure, Droog. Professor, I’m counting on your help, okay? Deuce and Droog should be able to help you out with setting up your game. I’ll be contacting you soon to make sure Tony will be able to connect to you in turn.”_

“Of course, Miss Robin,” you reply warmly.

She hangs up.

Okay. So. Video game. Where to start? You suppose you should load it up, right? There are instructions on compact disks nowadays, right? Oh, dear, you don’t have your computer on you.

As seems appropriate, you and Droog stand in incredibly awkward silence for at least a minute.

“Well, you’re quiet,” you offer.

“Because you’re supposed to get off your ass and start up the game,” he snaps back.

“Well, of course, yes, but, see, I have to go home to do that, but...” You trail off, unsure of how you were planning to finish that thought but no longer really caring. Gosh, Yorki must be right about you being all scattered and weird and bad at brain stuff. At this rate, you’ll be nothing but bones before long.

Droog shakes his head in dismay. Seems like he doesn’t know where you were going with this either. “I...it’s _your_ house. Lead the way, musician.”

If he insists. You waste no time in pretending that absolutely nothing out of the ordinary happened and grab Droog by the elbow, whisking him down the stairs before he can so much as complain. As you slam the door shut you hear Sanji startle awake, but you don’t think that’s your problem anymore.

The little guy—Deuce—must have remarkable stamina. He’s still running in circles when Droog sticks a lanky leg into his path and Deuce trips at a speed bordering on the supersonic and rolls out the door like a little small burrito of a living creature. You’re hungry all of a sudden.

You ignore the looks of baffled confusion from the Baratie staff and clientele as you grab your bag from onstage and hurriedly shove breadsticks into every open inch of space. “Er, excuse me, ma’am. Yes, you see, I’m a performer, and I’m alarmingly hungry and I haven’t received my paycheck yet so I’ll be taking these now.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Yorki as he gapes at you in surprise. You suppose you’re in a rush, though. Before Yorki can even question what’s going on, you let out a high-pitched laugh and say, “YOHO! _Thank_ you, esteemed patrons of the Baratie! I do hope I’ll see you at the next show, I’ll be sure to keep an _eye_ out for you, yohoho!!!”

And with that, you make your grand exit, determined to play the game that Robin needs you to play just as soon as you figure out how to use a computer.

~ ~ ~ ~

====> Franky: May she rest in pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ngl, if I kin any fictional character, it's probably Brook.


	8. ====> Franky: May she rest in pieces.

You sigh. 

“...Big bro, what are you doing?”

But it’s not just a normal sigh. It’s a sigh that comes with embracing the end of something beautiful. It’s melodramatic as all fuck and does nothing but emphasize the suffering that is the current state of your existence.

Mozu shoots you a look from the other corner of the room, you think, but you’re not sure, seeing as you’re currently curled up against the wall and staring at the floor.

You sigh again and reach for the bottle beside you, cracking it open with a hiss that would normally border on blissfully satisfying. Instead, the sound makes you sick to your stomach. 

“Hey, Mozu?” you mutter.

“Yeah?”

You pour the bottle of Coca Cola onto the floor where your beloved workstation setup used to be, letting it seep into the cracks with a pathetic fizzle.

“Get me a Pepsi.”

She gasps and immediately runs to your side, putting a supportive hand on your shoulder. After all, a request for Pepsi is a cry for help in any language.

“Now, now, big bro,” she says, probably trying to console you. She tries to pull the Coke from your hands and save what’s left of it, but you’ve already cracked open a cold one for your girl and the damage has been done. “Don’t forget, you’ve made some crazy awesome things before, you can totally make them again! And besides, it’s not like it’s the end of the world!”

Oh, but if only she knew that it actually _is_ the end of the world. That meteors are raining down from the sky, unnoticed by the entire world, and as if things couldn’t get worse, they killed your neighbor. Gosh, you wish a keysmash was easily translated into a spoken conversation, you would be able to communicate what you’re feeling so much more effectively.

Maybe it’s now that you know that Sanji’s trying to help Nami that it all just crashes down on you. Like the meteors that are coming, ironically. This is great. It’s fine. Facing the apocalypse without a computer? Psh. No biggie.

You’re so fucked.

_Iceburg is dead._

You reach clumsily to your side and Mozu immediately holds out a tissue for you. You make a spectacle of blowing your nose, not actually that intentionally this time. Model 3RRY was your best work so far, you and Tom and Iceburg had all worked on her together, back in the good old days. Now Tom’s retired, Ice is dead, and your beloved rig is gone. Everything is doomed. It’s enough to make any man cry, no matter how super he might be.

Your phone vibrates again and you groan. Even the sheer act of conversing with your friends is a hassle now without M-3RRY. Besides, your freakishly huge hands are too big for the keyboard, it’s such a pain to type. M-3RRY may have been ancient as all fuck, but she was perfect. 

For a moment, you consider not answering.

Then again. Maybe Nami’s got something to say that can explain this all away.

You open Denden and notice you’ve been added to a new group.

\- - kaizokuKing [KK] has formed alliance “THISISTHEBESTFUCKINGDAYOFMYLIFE” \- -  
\- - kaizokuKing [KK] allied with theSwordsman [TS] - -  
\- - kaizokuKing [KK] allied with flightyFingers [FF] - -  
\- - kaizokuKing [KK] allied with octoDisciples [OD] \- -  
\- - kaizokuKing [KK] allied with etherealGourmet [EG] \- -  
\- - kaizokuKing [KK] allied with pocketGentleman [PG] \- -  
\- - kaizokuKing [KK] allied with naiveReality [NR] \- -  
\- - kaizokuKing [KK] allied with cocacolaCollaborator [CC] \- -  
\- - kaizokuKing [KK] allied with dearlyDeparted [DD] \- -

KK: alright everyone drop whatever youre doing  
KK: as team leader i demand you all get ur asses in the infinitieth gear  
KK: shut up and enjoy the incredible awesome adventure that is this game  
KK: i love it  
KK: i need it  
KK: i kin it  
KK: im gonna pee

\- -  flightyFingers [FF]  blocked  kaizokuKing [KK]   - -  
\- - etherealGourmet [EG] has left the alliance  - -

Immediately, wow. You’re impressed Luffy was able to keep both of them in a chat for a whole nine seconds.

OD: Ew, Luffy!  
PG: actually, he did go to the bathroom for real, can confirm!  
OD: ...Never grow up, Tony. Never grow up.  
PG: okay!  
DD: Hmm, I don’t quite understand, is there a humerus joke I’m missing?  
NR: ~_~ Not particularly.  
DD: Ah, then, perhaps an offensive one? No worries here, kids—trust me, you can’t rattle these bones that easily, yohoho!  
NR: Professor, I think it might be best if we leave this alliance for now. The kids should have their fun, don’t you agree?  
DD: That’s just as well, we’re about to start the next set anyway.  
DD: I’ll see you around, my young able-bodied friends! Yohohoho!  
NR: Usopp, if you could check your email, I sent you everything you should need for the train transfer~  
OD: Oh, alright, thanks Robin!  
NR: Of course, Sniperking~  
OD: Heheh, we’ll talk later —>

\- - naiveReality [NR] has left the alliance - -  
\- - dearlyDeparted [DD] has left the alliance - -

KK: boo  
KK: yall are no fun  
PG: luffy, focus! there’s only an hour left on the timer, i want to get everything started before that!  
KK: b00000000  
KK: see how many zeros i put  
KK: its how much fun youre being  
KK: approximately zero fun  
KK: lame  
OD: Luffy did you make this chat for a reason —>besides<— making half of the group leave almost immediately?  
OD: Also, that was a very quick bathroom break, A+!  
KK: hehe thanks  
KK: yo check it

\- -  kaizokuKing [KK]  sent attachment  [hatless_boi.png ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16043192) \- -

OD: ( b＾ｪ＾)b  
OD: Absolutely —>no<— idea what I’m looking at, but that is one cute boy!  
PG: offended gasp!  
PG: (not at you usopp)  
KK: hehehe hes blushing so hard rn  
PG: shut up you bastard no i’m not!  
PG: luffy, you said you weren’t taking a picture of me!  
KK: but dude you looked so awesome with your hat buddyyyyyyyy  
PG: he’s a sprite, luffy, not a “hat buddyyyyyyyy”! and he’s perfect  
PG: AHH YOU ALMOST DROPPED THAT ON ME YOU BUTT  
KK: lol sry its hard to put this shit down over here when i gotta type  
PG: THEN STOP TYPING  
KK: nah  
OD: You two are, uh, in the same room right now, right?  
PG: yep!  
KK: ye  
OD: ...Just...  
OD: —> t a l k <—  
KK: but i wanted to tell everyone about how cool the game is so you can join faster  
KK: its no fun if were not all in it together

You sigh again. Now or never.

CC: hey guys  
KK: yo yo yo  
PG: FRANKY WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN THIS GAME IS SO DANG COOL WHY DIUDNT YOU TELL ME HOW COOOL THIS IS  
PG: SORRY THERE ATE TOO MANYT TYPOS TO FIX  
PG: STUPID HOIOVES  
OD: Franky! Where’ve you been, my computer’s going through some shit and I could use some help!  
OD: Also, hi —>  
CC: uh. well.  
CC: so  
CC: someone broke into my house and stole m3rry  
CC: also a meteor just up and fuckin obliterated ice’s house  
CC: rip in peace, baby.  
CC: just realizin now that i could be referrin to either ice or m3rry  
CC: to which i say  
CC: porque no los dos  
CC: rip in multiple pieces

You lean back against the wall and sigh, suppressing a sniffle. The phone doesn’t buzz for a minute or so, giving you enough time to sit here and wallow in despair.

OD: (Can I just keep it light for a moment and say that I appreciate your efforts to include pop culture references into even the least funny of things?)  
CC: (thanks brosopp)

Mozu taps your nose lightly and passes you another Coke. Riding the relative emotional high of Usopp’s well-timed compliment, you remind yourself that Pepsi is the Devil’s poison and you’d rather die than drink it. The fizz of the can opening is easily most beautiful sound you’ve heard today.

Another buzz.

Luffy private-messaged you.

KK: im sorry your friend got hit by a meteor  
KK: and im sorry your rig got nicked, i know how much you loved her  
KK: she was totally incredible, like everything else you make, but that doesnt mean were gonna just let this slide  
KK: whoever took your friend from you is gonna pay, i promise.

You can’t help but smile at that. For a snot-nosed highschooler, Luffy has this weird, uncanny sense of how to...how to  _people._ You’re sure that if itwas a verb, Luffy would be the expert at peopleing.

It almost makes you feel bad. You’re in your thirties. You shouldn’t be relying on a kid stuck in a snowstorm half a country away.

CC: m3rry woulda loved you  
KK: well then i can meet her when you find her   
KK: and if you dont find her then i bet your next rig will like me just as much  
CC: touche  
CC: thanks, little bro, but you know you shouldn't gotta be the adult here, right?  
KK: im just being a friend  
KK: a $OOP34 friend  
CC: *$UP3R  
KK: hehe sorry bro ill get it right next time  
CC: or you could just let me do what i do best and be the $UP3R one?  
KK: hey you said it not me  
KK: shit choppers crying i gotta go handle this  
KK: *dabs away*

Another buzz—back to the group chat.

KK: tell us what happened

You do. You detail the conversations with Nami, the discovery of the meteors, and everything else relevant you can remember. Once you’ve sent your wall of text, you pick yourself off the floor and start about the busy process of cleaning up your wrecked workroom with Mozu’s help. For the sake of brevity, we’ll assume that you continue to clean while chatting, because you’re FRANKY, an EXCELLENT MULTITASKER who can definitely be COMPETENT and MOURN THE LOSS OF TWO DEAR FRIENDS in a SIMULTANEOUS FASHION.

OD: Uh.  
OD: Wow.  
OD: That’s a lot to parse.  
OD: And you’re —>absolutely sure<— about the meteors?  
CC: yeah   
CC: i saw a few overhead recently, but nothin like what hit ice  
OD: And his house is just.......  
OD: Gone???  
CC: apparently  
CC: unless he’s been testin some $UP3R dangerous shit without me in which case we got a different problem  
OD: Oh man.  
OD: Suddenly I’m regretting everything?? Is that normal when faced with meteors?  
OD: Nope, you know what, I’m just gonna repress it. Meteors? What meteors? Everything’s fine. Can’t be hit by something that doesn’t exist.  
KK: thats the spirit  
KK: meteors are awesome  
KK: id love to fight a meteor  
PG: i’m back!  
PG: sorry franky, i should’ve stayed here and been more supportive, i just got really sad  
CC: no worries, little dude! it’s cool, we all look out for each other here, k?  
KK: yeah chopper!  
KK: ur fine  
KK: we can all handle this together thats what friends are for  
PG: okay!  
OD: So Nami’s gone AWOL, huh?  
OD: I checked, and Vivi’s gone offline too.  
KK: she was asking me about meteors before  
KK: hold on lemme text my fam bout this  
OD: Wow! I can’t believe Nami and Vivi both disappeared at the exact same time. What a coincidental and not at all related series of events that have occurred!  
PG: franky, does this mean you can’t play the game with us?  
CC: i messaged granny, chimney’s comin over with my spare laptop and kiwi’s lendin me her copies, so no worries  
CC: it’ll be slow as shit but somethin is better than nothin  
KK: lit  
PG: awesome!  
PG: i found this walkthrough on gamefaqs, imma send it now  
PG: <http://sburb.weebly.com/roses-walkthrough.html>  
CC: oh yeah i’ve seen this one, everyone here should read it if they get a minute  
CC: it’s not for the gold version tho but the mechanics seem similar  
CC: also it like. changes authors halfway through?  
PG: yeah i noticed that too, honestly i like how that writer does it!  
PG: the main writer’s kind of hard to understand, but she seems nice!  
OD: I’ll read it later, the signal on the train is —>terrible<—  
PG: this was the only guide i could really find anywhere  
KK: dad isnt answering me grandpas senile and sabo and ace are working so idk what to tell you about the apocalypse  
KK: chopper we gotta see what we can make with that alchemy stuff  
KK: we can make a robot  
KK: or a ninja  
KK: OR A ROBOT NINJA  
PG: gasp!  
KK: but yeah franky i got nothing for you  
CC: crap.  
OD: I take it that this means we’re at a dead end?  
CC: well it ain’t like we can fight the weather  
KK: nami could  
OD: Shush  
KK: no  
OD: (•`O´•)9  
KK: dont be a coward usopp  
KK: fight the weather  
KK: fight nami  
KK: fight b oth  
OD: Or neither!!   
KK: lol remember when zoro told us he was gonna fight the weather that one time  
KK: and then sanji said hed fight it faster  
KK: that was fun  
PG: zoro, didn’t you catch a cold from that? i warned you about storms, zoro!  
OD: Oh, man, I —>knew<— I was forgetting something!  
OD: Good going, Luffy.  
KK: thanks  
OD: NO you ass!  
OD: Apparently your little stunt earlier today got Zoro megagrounded.  
CC: f  
KK:   
KK: oh  
KK: oops  
KK: sorry  
KK: sanji did it  
PG: oh no! is he okay?  
CC: am i missin smth here  
KK: zoros dad is hella scary  
KK: and he doesnt like talking about it but apparently they strife a lot  
KK: the bad kind  
KK: i know hell win one someday tho! obviously  
KK: but hella not today  
CC: crap  
CC: he hasn’t answered any of my messages either, that’s probably why then  
CC: you know his sis, usopp, any word?  
OD: I’m working on it, apparently she’s attempting to run some damage control before Zoro can get back from practice.  
KK: hang in there zolonona  
CC: wait, then he ain’t home yet, right?  
CC: so how do you know?  
OD: Robin  
CC: oh ok fair i guess

The conversation devolves from there, as it always does without one of the rational ones to keep you four on track. After an hour of intense debate over whether Zoro was a ninja or an assassin in a past life, Usopp leaves to presumably switch trains to Zoro’s house. You chat with the two remaining kids while they play the game, walking each other through the mechanics of SLINE in an effort to do as Usopp had—forget all about anything related to meteors. Meteors? What meteors? That’s the spirit.

Chopper suddenly leaves Luffy’s house—apparently the storm’s getting worse. After that, the conversation dies down, and you busy yourself with driving the remnants of M-3RRY’s murder/abduction to the junkyard by the beach. It takes you twice as long as usual, since you avoid Ice’s house like the plague. The radio plays over the bass-boosted speakers of your pickup and you barely hear a word of it. Occasionally a meteor streaks by in the sky, making Usopp’s patented strategy of “repress to impress” completely fuckall useless as you wonder just what the fuck is going on.

Since you’re running out of ideas of ways to spend the time until you can get the game started, you suppose it could be better used if you were busy being someone else.

~ ~ ~

> NR: Let Franky be busy being you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important: Links! if something's linked, it's extra content. I'm probably going to make most of the attachments into minifics or post a fic containing an image, so everything can be found in Raftelbound.
> 
> Also, the story's going to get more broad from here on out, so feel free to suggest what adventures these lovable idiots should take!


	9. > NR: Let Franky be busy being you.

Franky? Who’s that? You don’t know anyone by that name. Not yet anyway.

Besides, nobody can be you but you. You’re a NOSY RAPSCALLION, through and through, and you’re the best at what you do, and nobody else can do it. Yes, you’re quite sure about that.

So you ignore the little voice in your head (and the bigger voices shouting for you from outside the library) and squeeze into the mysterious passageway that’s just opened up due to your completely coincidental snooping. They’ll never find you in here. Wherever here is.

You wait until their voices are too far away to hear anymore to slow to a casual walk. The tunnel is too dark to see anything, and it’s longer than you expected. You suppose you’d feel lonely in here if you weren’t already lonely all the time.

You yelp in surprise as you hit a wall directly ahead of you— _owwww_ , gosh, why would anyone make a secret tunnel without lights? Unless they had the foresight to bring a torch or something similar with them. You didn’t have that. Why would anyone expect you to have foresight? You’re only six. You barely have enough experience for regular informed decisions, forget proactive ones.

Your hands slide over the door’s solid cold exterior until you grasp a handle. It takes both hands to turn.

The room you emerge into isn’t dark, which is an upgrade for sure. Rather, it’s a bit dim, and you have to squint to make out most details. It smells stale. You wonder if anyone’s been in here for a while. 

There look to be a few large structures in the room, so you approach one of them. It looks like a cube? A big one, more than twice your height. It looks a bit shiny, save for these weird indents that look to be like encrypted writing. Maybe a different language—given where you are, it would make sense. But for the moment, you don’t have any tools that you think would prove useful here.

Just in case, you sit on the dusty floor and pull up your sylladex, spending the better half of an hour quietly perusing the encryptions of your conspiracy modus for anything that might prove useful in breaking in. You hope that someday, decryption and high-stakes investigation will be your specialty—but for now, you’ll settle for being a simple nosy rapscallion who can’t get an object out of her sylladex.

When you give up on your sylladex and this first structure (in that order), you continue to explore, coming across the second structure in the room. What is this thing? It looks like some weird machine, a computer of some kind with a massive screen and a huge keyboard that you’re barely the height of.

You make quick use of your FLOWERKIND ABSTRATUS and extend a ladder of hands that allows you to shamble up to sit on the desk/keyboard/surface thing and view the buttons. Besides the keyboard, they’re not labeled at all. You wonder if Professor Clover is the one who typically works this contraption, maybe he didn’t need labels for the buttons.

Well, you’re nothing if not curious. You press the nearest button.

The screen hums to life with a buzzing sound that makes you gasp. It’s a lot easier to see now, it’s not one screen, but nine, arranged in a three by three matrix. All but the upper left one are dark. The first screen simply shows a few lines of white text on a black background. You read them aloud, your voice small and hollow against the expanse.

====>SWITCH #  
====>REQUEST INFORMATION  
====>ACTIVATE

Hmm. You suppose the obvious would make the most sense. You type _==== >SWITCH 1 _and press enter. The screen shifts to—wait, is that your room? Why is your room being monitored? That’s alarming at best, illegal at worst. You take a mental note of the angle and height and resolve to cover the camera when you return home.

You enter the second command. The screen reverts to the text window. 

PC NICO ROBIN, 6  
ARCHAEOLOGIST  
naiveReality [NR]

Hmm, this machine seems to know your name, age, aspirations and Denden handle. Perhaps this belongs to some secret spy ring of murderers and kidnappers who are hunting children down over the internet for their own nefarious purposes. Considering the things you’ve read about in some of the Professor’s books, it doesn’t seem nearly as farfetched as half of human history. 

You go through to the next screen. For some reason, it comes up blank. Requesting the information does nothing. You suppose that means it’s time to move on. 

You go through all nine screens, finding only two others that work. One is the bottom left corner, which is also empty so you choose to ignore it, but it seems to be connected to a young mechanic’s room, judging from the mess.

PC CUTTY FLAM, 12  
SHIPWRIGHT  
cocacolaCollaborator [CC]

After waiting a few more minutes for someone to show up, you assume that this one’s a dead end. What’s far more interesting to you is the screen on the middle left. Not only is it active, but someone’s in there.

PC BROOK EDWARDS, 33  
MUSICIAN  
dearlyDeparted [DD]

You stare at the jovial adult man on screen and his VIVACIOUS AFRO as he writes music and sings and dances for what both feels like hours and is, realistically, actually hours. He looks so excited, much more than anyone you know or have ever met before. You wonder why. 

Suddenly you regret leaving your stolen phone back in your bedroom. You’d very much like to talk to this exciting man.

You think about the commands you could potentially use on this console. Activating this screen seems to be the only option left, and as you've already mentioned, you are a very curious person.

====>ACTIVATE

The screens all go dark, and so do whatever dim lights that were on before, instantly bathing the room in shadow. You fail to suppress the pang of fear that takes over as, for a brief moment, the room is silent.

Then the center screen lights up with two rows of symbols. The first you recognize as card suits—a heart, a diamond, a spade and a club. 

The second is a timer.

8461:00:35:23

You wait a second.

8461:00:35:22

You watch as it ticks down, doing some complicated mental math that a six-year-old shouldn’t really be able to do. That’s roughly twenty-two years. What did you just activate that could possibly come to fruition so far in the future?

Well, you suppose you’ll have twenty-two years to find out.

*

====> Zoro: Be very lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that thing I said about really random updates? This was what I meant.


	10. ====> Zoro: Be very lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A heavy boi.

You cannot be very lost because you are busy trying not to die.

The air smells like blood. The entire left side of your face stings and burns and feels like every tense moment you’ve ever had with your foster dad just solidified and gouged a hole in your face, which you’re pretty sure is what _just fucking happened_ , so it’s good to know you’re not losing blood to the point of hallucination.

Still. That’s, uh...that’s a lot of blood.

You try to remove your hand from your eye and immediately regret it when you feel the rush of blood running down your face. Yeah, that’s too much, wow, okay, that’s not cool, Dad. Wait, maybe you _are_ hallucinating, you don’t usually call him anything resembling a real dad since real dads wouldn’t stab you repeatedly, right? Then again, you guess you wouldn’t know, having a stable family isn’t exactly your forte. 

Okay, okay, Zoro. Focus. Ignore the random intrusive thoughts. You’re bleeding, badly. You’re unarmed. Do what Kuina taught you. 

It feels weird to look around with one eye closed, and to be fair, you’re probably losing enough blood to get confused about all of that spatial bullshit without having one less eye to worry about, but you figure out some stuff. You’re on the floor. You think you fell when your fucking asshole bad fucking loser dad stabbed you. Your room is oddly dark and you think you can vaguely hear wind. Usopp and Mihawk are gone and you can’t hear your sister and you’re alone. Nobody’s coming to your rescue.

You manage to drag yourself over to your bed and reach your free hand under the frame, fumbling around for your first aid kit. It takes longer than you’d like to admit for you to grab hold of it and open the case—you must be more disoriented than you thought.

You tear open one of the gauze packages with your teeth, then take a look at the tape. You’re gonna need both hands for this. Shit.

You try and steady your breathing for a few seconds, mentally preparing yourself, and then you move your hand and quickly place the thick gauze sheet over the wound. It’s already soaked through in seconds. Motherfuck, that’s going to need stitches. Or booze. Or both. Actually, no, definitely both. Too bad you don’t have any beer lefto _ho_ what have we here.

Your eyes—eye _singular_ , shit you’re gonna have to get used to that now, thanks a lot asshole—locks onto the bottle of isopropyl alcohol in the kit. Rational decisions aren’t exactly at the top of your list of priorities right now, and you don’t see any Advil anywhere, do you? Haha guess you won’t be seeing as much anymore anywhere anyway.

On your second try you snag the bottle and pop the cap off. You raise it up to your lips and you’re about to down the whole damn thing in one go when you realize that someone’s staring at you.

Okay, you’re definitely hallucinating this one. Perona’s ghosts are the only ghosts you know about, and this one doesn’t look like any of hers. It’s completely devoid of features, except for. Oh. Oh, your glasses. That’s the, the thingy with the game, the thing you threw your glasses at. Maybe not a hallucination. Gah, you wish you could tell.

You try and glare at the ghosty freak thing but forget that it hurts a lot to squint with a dysfunctional eye and immediately wind up wincing, and of course wincing hurts too, and that’s just a cyclical hell that you’ve condemned yourself to, now isn’t it. No wait, not cyclical. What does that idiot cook call it? _Recursive_. Hell if you know, you’re not a guy who knows useless desk jockey crap like him, you’re just a dude who’s really good at fighting. Sanji sucks at that. Remember that time you fought the weather? _He_ couldn’t do that. You totally won that bet and oh fuck you’re rambling again focus,  _focus._

Even when you finish unintentionally derailing this rampant train of thought, you look up at the glasses ghost and it’s still just staring at you.

“What?” you snap. Well, you try to snap. It comes out more slurred than you’d like. A lot of things aren’t going perfectly right now.

Staring, still. Whatever. You attempt to convey an expression akin to rolling your eye—eyes—and raise the bottle again—this time, it reacts, reaching out towards you with an open hand. Some weird crackly noise comes from its direction, and it sounds urgent, but fuck if you can tell a single thing it’s trying to say.

You return its blank-ass stare, and after a moment, it zooms a little closer to you and points at the bottle, then makes another crinkly burst of sound that almost seems like disapproval.

You lock eye—eyes? Glasses? Who fucking knows—with the ghost and pour the entire bastard of a bottle down your throat.

**_BLUH_ **

You regret this immediately.

You double over in a coughing fit that makes you wince, and we already know how well the last time you winced went. Since you’d somehow miraculously forgotten to tape your bandage down in the first place, the bloodstained gauze falls to the floor and a steady current of blood continues its course down your cheek and onto your clothing. Your head spins like someone’s using it for a soccer match—you bet you’d hate being the ball. 

There’s some more crackling beside you. You force yourself to stop having a seizure and watch as the ghosty thing picks up a few supplies from the kit and approaches you.

It says something you think. You still don’t understand a word, so you settle for a threatening grunt. Unsurprisingly, it looks unfazed.

It hovers beside you and raises a cleaning pad to your eye, and the second it touches the wound it hurts like hell which is how you know its bad because usually it takes a lot more than this to make you feel anything. Physically that is. For your sake, we won’t discuss what kind of stuff gets you emotional, you’re obviously going through a lot and who the hell are you talking to _ow._

You glare at the ghost as it slaps your hand away from your face and continues cleaning the wound. Fuck, alright. Guess that’s how it’s gonna be.

The two of you sit in silence for the few minutes it takes to bandage the wound, and when it’s done, the ghost makes a noise that sounds almost satisfied. It picks up the medkit and zooms out of sight, leaving you alone on the floor.

Maybe you pass out, maybe you don't? All you know is that one second the ghost is leaving and when you open your singular eye back up the ghost is back, holding something out to you and making noises again. It takes a moment for you to focus enough to realize that it’s levitating your cellphone in front of your face somehow. There’s some text on the screen—oh, man, you’re going to regret losing an eye so much more if it’s gonna be this hard to read. You want to check Denden, but you think the colors might actually kill you.

Aside from the lack of sentience, prototyping glasses was a smart move.  
Can you stand? 

You squint at the ghost some more.

“Is...” Oh fuck, words are hard. You wet your lips and try again. “Is this from you?”

It makes another noise again, snatches the phone from you, and types something before tossing it back.

I’d say we don't have time for your stupidity, but technically we do.  
Can you stand? 

...For a ghost, it sure is salty. Wait, can ghosts _be_ salty? Don’t you throw salt over your shoulder to get rid of ghosts or some crap like that? Gah, whatever. You glare at it as venomously as you can in this state, which is still pretty venomous. “Hey, watch it.”

If you don’t listen to me, neither of us will make it out of here.  
Can you stand? 

You roll an eye, which is really just you being difficult since you figure you might as well try anyway. It takes you a second to sit yourself back upright, and after making sure your head’s still on right, you manage to get all the way to your feet. Success. Your leaning against the bed is totally in an effort to look cooler, that’s _totally_ the reason.

Good.  
Can you fight? 

You suppress your immediate urge to start laughing hysterically, and instead fix the ghost with a deadpan look that has about the same effect.

I thought as much. That’s fine, you don’t have to. Even if you were capable, I wouldn’t expect you to fight your first boss without a weapon. Just leave her to me. 

You read the message over again, your eye lingering on one phrase in particular.

“First boss, huh?”

You seem surprised. For now, answers can wait until the immediate threat is gone.  
Now, follow these instructions carefully. I need you to leave this room and distract her. If she sees me coming, you will die.  
All you need to do is survive. 

“Who’s she?” you ask. But when you hold the phone back out to the ghost, it shakes its head and instead gestures for you to follow it. Guess you’re doing this now. Depth perception feels weird, probably best not to think about it. You take a step, wobbly at first, but when you don’t immediately collapse or bang into a wall, you feel confident enough to keep going.

You slide the door open as quietly as you can, surveying the scene. Perona’s door is open—never a good sign. She’d rather kill herself than let you think her room was a place you were allowed to enter. Otherwise, though, everything looks the same. Same old haunted-ass mansion.

You’ve just reached the top of the main stairs when you see her sitting at the base.

It’s. Well, you think it’s Kuina. Not _your_ Kuina, the punk adult with twelve piercings who drives a jeep and practices swordplay with you. _Preteen_ Kuina, the little kid from your orphanage, wearing a tattered t-shirt and shorts. 

You have maybe thirty questions concerning this, but all of them fade away when she looks at you, and she gives you _the look._ Fuck. That’s authentic Kuina, right there.

“...Roronoa Zoro. I see you’ve moved to a nicer place.” Her voice is just the same way you remember it, a bit squeaky, and bitter as all hell. But the words sound like they’re coming from a stranger. You’re honestly kind of off-put by it. Weren’t you talking to Kuina, your Kuina, like an hour ago? She knows you, right? This is someone you grew up with, stole with, drank with, partied with, fought with. Why does she act like she’s surprised you’re in your own house?

“...Moved?” You tilt your head to the side in confusion—oops, ow, bad idea. “Uh. Kuina, I’ve lived here for, uh, like, what? Nine years?”

She scoffs and pushes to her feet, back to you. “I’m well aware you’ve lived this long, Zoro. There’s no need to rub it in.”

“Uh, what the fuck,” you say, since someone has to be the voice of reason. You look around for the ghost, but it’s gone. Fuck, why would it just leave you hanging like this?

The air above her head warps and crackles for a moment, snapping suddenly into a large red rectangle lined with white. Years of quarter-gobbling arcade games have taught you to recognize it on sight—a health bar.

When she turns towards you, you notice the katana in her hands. A _real_ katana.

Suddenly it dawns on you that you may have just triggered a boss fight.

She’s above you before you can even blink. Somehow you remember the advice from the ghost— _all you need to do is survive_ —and manage to throw yourself out of the way as she drives her blade six inches into the floor where you were standing. Unfortunately, you’re not thinking as much about where you’re throwing yourself and _oh fuck stairs._

You think you hit your head a couple times on the way down, that can’t be good, but at least it ends eventually and you land with your ass on the floor and your eye blearily trying to focus on the ceiling. You can smell blood again. Vaguely you notice a health bar hovering near your head, and it does _not_ look full. Unbe-fucking-lievable. You just fell down the stairs and took actual fall damage. You are truly a monument to being a pathetic piece of shit.

Kuina barks out a bitter laugh from the top of the stairs, and considering that it’s coming from a prepubescent teen with a blade, you’re surprised by how fucking terrifying it sounds. “Well, isn’t that ironic! So this is the man who will be the world’s greatest swordsman, on the crew of the future king of the pirates? Felled by the same thing that felled a child.”

You kind of stammer out an admittedly pathetic string of sounds that makes no sense. Nothing she’s saying makes sense either. Or anything you’re seeing, for that matter... Fuck it, might as well throw in the towel on reality and just say that nothing makes sense, _period_. You’re never gonna play a video game again.

Kuina breaks into a sprint and leaps down the entirety of the master staircase, landing only a few feet in front of you with enough force to lightly splinter the immaculate tiles. Jesus, was she always that short? No, wait, she’s the kid version, of course she’s short. Kuina’s still pretty short though, not this Kuina of course, your Kuina, though that brings into question the reality of the one staring at you right now—

A surprised yelp of pain cuts off your thoughts as she drives the blade into your left ankle, almost definitely hitting bone with a single thrust. You’re fairly certain that if you weren’t...well, _you_ , you’d be screaming your head off right now. 

 _“Pay attention to me!”_ Kuina snaps, leaning over you with an enraged snarl. Somehow you only just now noticed that her eyes are completely white. Or maybe this is hallucinations again. You hope she doesn’t kill you. You don’t think you’d like being dead, you’d miss Kuina’s birthday party.

She stares at you for a second, furiously searching your eye (no plural, you’re remembering) for something you don’t think you have. Then she screeches and lets the sword go, still leaving it literally buried in your bone. “This is supposed to be a challenge, what the _hell_ , Roronoa?! Are you still looking down on me, even now? Even when I have you at your limits, even after years where I’ve done nothing but train and wait until I could show you everything I’ve got, and _now_ you won’t fight me with everything you’ve got too?! It was all just a prank, wasn’t it! Telling me I had what it takes to beat you, telling me one of us would grow to be the best. Did I have to die to get it? Is that what this is?”

You vaguely think you hear crackling somewhere in the periphery. Or maybe that’s just Kuina stomping around and yelling.

Suddenly an oddly intrusive thought comes to mind—

You cannot die. And if you _cannot_ die, then you _will not die._

Makes sense.

Gosh. Your ankle sure is hurting.

Annoyed and mildly inconvenienced and inexplicably chock-full of willpower, you force yourself upright and remove the blade from your literal body.

You get the WADŌ ICHIMONJI. 

Kuina’s still distracted screaming something about something you don’t understand, and as you use your newfound blade to pull yourself up to your feet, that line of thought comes up again. You will not die. You cannot die. You are the KNIGHT, and you will not die to a boss.

What do bosses do to knights? They kill them. You can’t let that happen. Whatever it takes.

You’re not sure where your rush of strength comes from. Or speed, or concentration, or anything, really. You just know that you cannot die, and you know it so fast, that one second you’re standing upright, the next, Kuina has a blade rammed straight through her ribcage.

You hear her oddly burbled gasp for air as your height and the force of the blow lifts her up until her feet don’t touch the ground.

“Well—“ she rasps, the bitter edge to her words dulled like a practice sword. “O-i -I guess you a-are the best, after all...”

You pull the blade away in one single clean motion. Kuina’s body collapses at the base of the stairs, surrounded in a pool of blood as if she’d simply taken a misstep and fallen down a flight.

At some point you drop the sword. You’re kind of just staring at the body for who knows how long when the ghost flies over to it and practically dives into it, and there’s a flash of light in front of you and then a green ghost Kuina with glasses is just...just there, giving you an oddly sympathetic look.

She places a hand on your shoulder, making a sort of crackling sound as she does. “You did the right thing, Roronoa Zoro,” she says, in Kuina’s voice. “Your world isn’t going to go easy on you just because this was your first kill.”

 _Wow_ , you don’t like this. You just killed Kuina. _Kuina_ , for fuck’s sake. You shouldn’t be talking to her. The ghost shouldn’t be using _her_ voice. It’s not for the ghost to use.

You wonder if this is how your dad feels every time he wins a strife. This is pathetic.

You think it’s time to close your other eye.

~ ~

====>Chopper: THE DOCTOR IS IN


	11. ====> Chopper: THE DOCTOR IS IN

You don’t think you’ll ever understand how Luffy’s so good with games. It’s like he doesn’t even try, he just figures them out. You were expecting that it would take a lot of explaining and THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP AND TEAMWORK to get this whole inventory system working, but the second he opened up your server copy, he just ran with it. It’s probably because he just doesn’t really get weirded out by things, ever. If anything, he’s the one who makes all the weird stuff happen—but somehow, everything always works out.

Still, as you examine the small mushroom currently growing out of the alchemiter platform, you can’t help but wonder if he screwed something up along the way.

You peer at it closely, stopping only to occasionally type some query into your browser. You tend to like plants a lot, you’re not quite sure why, but you’ve _never_ seen any fungus like this one before. Though, you guess it’s also bright pink, and you’ve never seen _any_ plant that was just entirely pink like that, so you’re not surprised your research isn’t yielding any verifiable results. After all, it makes no sense for the stem to be a bright pink as well, though now that you think about it, you’re not entirely sure about what evolutionary reason would constitute—

A low groan from Luffy back at the kitchen table jarringly drags you out of what you and your teachers have preemptively begun to refer to as THESIS MODE. “Gaaaaaaaah, Chopper, come _on._ Just pick it up!”

“But we don't know enough about it!” you argue, turning around to face him for a split second before you start pacing and lecturing all at once. “We don’t know the exact purpose of it within the game, or if it's safe to use, or just what sort of thing we’re supposed to do once we’ve ma—“

You stop short as something bounces off your head and into your wildly gesturing hooves. Dangit! 

“ _Luffy!_ ” you screech, waving the now-picked mushroom in his face as he giggles at you. “You’re not listening to me!”

“Relax, it’s just a game, right?” Luffy shrugs, his expression falling minutely under your glare. “Or I guess it’s sort of a big deal or something, but whatever, it’s still a game so we should have fun!”

You roll your eyes at him before plopping onto the ground, crossing your legs and turning the mushroom over in your hooves. You guess that it _is_ sort of a big deal, huh? What with everything with the meteors and all. In fact, that’s probably why you’re being so neurotic about this stuff. You feel absolutely horrible for Franky, but this game is starting to look like the one thing that all of your friends are looking forward to. Anything you can do to understand this game, you want to do, and you want to do it _perfectly._ You want this game to be so much fun for everyone, nobody’s going to have time to worry about meteors, they’ll be too busy playing.

You scroll through the walkthrough for the millionth time, looking for some explanation of what comes next. Your timer’s still counting down another thirty minutes or so, you have your item, you have your sprite, now what?

Luffy catches your eyes and waggles his eyebrows, which from Luffy could honestly mean anything, but in this context probably means he has a terrible idea.

You look at Luffy with dawning abject horror as approximately thirty-five different ways to use a mushroom suddenly cross your mind, _more than one of which involve smoking it,_ which is ABSOLUTELY APPALLING TO YOU IN EVERY WAY. You’re a kid! And a doctor in training! Drugs are ILLEGAL AND DANGEROUS AND BAD! Your LUNGS are PRECIOUS!

As such, you respond the only way you can, by screeching at the top of your precious lungs.

“ _WHAT?!?”_

He laughs brightly, unashamedly amused at your spontaneous explosion. “It’s a mushroom! Eat it,” Luffy says, enunciating every syllable way too hard. Oh, okay, he meant it _that_ way, well, now that you’re thinking about it, you _definitely_ dont want to eat it _any_ way, or do anything with it for that matter. Maybe you just need to plant it! Yeah! Clearly that is the _only option._

“No!” You clutch the mushroom protectively to your chest as Luffy’s cursor tries to swipe it from you. “—Hey! Paws off!”

Sensing danger, your sprite flies in front of you, prompting a battle of attrition between him and Luffy as the sprite moves around to block Luffy’s more aggressive clicks. You squeal and take the opportunity to duck underneath the kitchen table unnoticed—pretty easy, your sprite sure is smart for someone who can’t talk, and even if he wasn’t, distracting Luffy is super easy! You don’t have a name for him yet, you feel like you’ll figure one out when the time is right.

You eye the timer at the base of your cruxtruder again. You and Luffy have made good time, there’s only thirty minutes left but you’ve still gone as far into the crafting process as you can. You don't have any of that grist stuff, whatever it is, so you can’t make anything else, all you’ve got now is a totally-not-usable-as-a-drug mushroom.

“— _mother of—GAH!”_

_“Quit shoving me, asshole!”_

You shudder suddenly as a wave of cold overtakes the kitchen, putting your fur on end. Luffy and your sprite stop mid-tussle as Sabo and Ace come barreling into the kitchen, looking like they just took a dive through a snowcone machine.

“Fucking _hell_ , it’s cold out there!” Ace says through clattering teeth, and as you’ve come to expect from knowing Luffy’s family, he doesn’t even react to the absolute shitshow you and Luffy have made of the kitchen. You watch in dismay as Ace instead runs over to the oven and opens it up, cranking the heat and sitting on the floor near it.

“Isn’t that a fire hazard?” you ask. His reply is to flash you a rude gesture, which after a moment ignites in a brilliant little burst of red fire. Right, you guess Ace _himself_ is already plenty of a fire hazard.

“Oh hey, Ace, Sabo,” Luffy says nonchalantly, cracking a grin and jerking a thumb at your sprite. “Check this little dude out, isn’t he cool!”

“Don’t care,” Ace mutters, casually sticking his head in the oven.

You make a mental note to kick the two of them someday. You feel like they deserve it, just a little bit.

As a LICENSED JUNIOR PSYCHIATRIST (long story), you can’t help but notice that as Sabo surveys the kitchen and the messes his two idiot brothers have made, all five stages of grief flash across his expression and then almost instantly settle back to a resigned acceptance. Poor guy, he probably has to deal with this sort of bullshit more than any other person on the planet.

He sighs tightly, taking off his cap and dusting a few centimeters of snow off the surface. “...At this point, I don’t think I even want to know. Luffy, did you check with Dad if _this_ —“ he gestures to your joint alchemy setup and your blinking sprite friend— “was cool? And by ‘cool’, I mean ‘allowed’.”

“Nope!”

“Great.” Sabo’s mouth draws into a tight line, an approximation of a smile. He looks so tired. 

“He’s bringing pizza,” Luffy supplies unhelpfully.

“S‘not bringing shit _.”_ Ace’s voice comes through muffled from inside the oven. You smell smoke. “It’s snowing up an ass out there, even the gas stations’re closed.”

“...Oh.” Luffy deflates a little—the prospect of food must have been keeping him going for some time.

Sabo closes his eyes, takes a moment, and then addresses his brothers. “Despite the fact that Ace is both literally _and_ figuratively baked right now, he’s not wrong. This is a full-on blizzard we’re dealing with at this point, and against my better judgement, I’ve been asked to take our guest home.”

_That_ gets Luffy’s attention—his smile immediately disappears and he jumps to his feet, already about to yell over it, but Sabo cuts him off. “I don’t want to hear it, Luffy! I don’t like it but I don’t have a choice.”

You try to wrap your head around what he’s just said. You’re going home, _already_? What about the game? What about the meteors?

”But I was supposed to be staying the night,” you mutter, trying not to let your disappointment through—after all, you’re a guest here, it’s not your right to ask to stay longer. Gosh, though, you don’t want to go home already! It gets pretty lonely in E. Grand City, just you and your terrifyingly confrontational strife goddess of a grandmother. Wow the more you think about, the more scary she seems. It’s nice that she’s not a bad guy.

Sabo’s expression softens a bit, and he fishes his phone out of his pocket. “I’m sorry, Tony, but...er, is this your grandmother?”

He holds his phone out to you and you look at the Denden handle— _youthfulImmortal_ , yep, that’s her. “How did she find you?” you ask, looking back up at him.

“Uh, that’s not really important,” he says in a hasty way that implies it’s a _very_ interesting answer. You make a note to snoop later. “What’s important is that she was _ridiculously_ insistent on me bringing you home now. As in, _right_ now.”

Luffy makes a weird sound from behind you that eventually fades into a whining, “ _Noooooooooooooo”,_ which Sabo somehow expertly ignores. The man has pacifying his brothers down to a science, and as it turns out, you’re just along for the ride.

~ ~

Two aggressive phone calls from Doctorine and a tearful farewell with Luffy later, you and Sabo are packed into his van and heading back into the city. You’re not going to be playing the game anymore, looks like, since Sabo’s van obviously doesn’t have any wifi and you’re definitely going to lose connection out there on the open road. It really sucks! You were really looking forward to it, you hope your friends don’t see you as a disappointment after this. It took some convincing but you were at least able to get Sabo to let you bring your sprite (on the condition that your good boy sit in the trunk). 

You make sure Luffy promises to still play the game without you, to which he reluctantly agrees—but only after you _pinky promise_ to eat the mushroom in his stead. For someone who’s usually so cheerful, you wish Luffy weren’t so upset about you leaving. It’s only making it harder on you, and you can tell that Sabo feels awful about having to pull you and Luffy out of your tight farewell embrace. You wave at your BEST FRIEND EVER from the window for as long as you possibly can, making sure to do so until Luffy’s house disappears around a bend in the road. Your stomach sinks. How can you already miss him? Well, you guess you don’t really have any non-internet friends that are anywhere as awesome as Luffy. He is simply the best there is.

You rub your hooves against your jacket in an effort to warm up, and fail miserably. Even your fur seems ineffectual against this super bomb blizzard whatever thing, whatever Sabo mentioned way earlier in the day. The heat’s already cranked but it isn’t too effective (and you notice a few of Ace’s scorch marks on your seat too so you know that the cold isn’t a new issue). Sabo put on a thick scarf before starting the car, making sure to cover up a good portion of his scarred face, which of course only made you more curious about it. Your doctor self is dying to figure out what happened to him.

Well, since you’re in the car with him, you suppose a good old-fashioned snoop could be in order. You’re no detective, but you’re not half-bad for a licensed junior psychiatrist.

“Sorry you have to drive in the cold to bring me home.”

“It’s no problem,” he assures you. “It was either me or Ace, and I don’t trust him to keep from setting my car on fire. I just hope that your grandmother was right in insisting I bring you home, this storm is incredibly dangerous. Realistically, it would have been smart for you to stay with us for the night.”

“How _did_ my grandmother find you, anyway?” you query, probably bleeding innocence from your literal doe eyes.

The car slows to a stop at a red light. This van is the only vehicle you can see out the window—and for a moment, it seems like it’s just you and Sabo in the world. He glances silently at you, taking the red light as an opportunity to do so. You’re smart though, you’re not gonna crack under a dirty look. He’s a writer, right? He knows how to get a story, and he probably knows how to hide one too.

The light turns green and Sabo sighs, slowly moving the car forward over slippery streets. “Beats me,” he says. “She seems to know her way around the internet for an older lady, I guess? Gosh, though, Gramps doesn’t know anything about technology, how can she possibly— Hey, how old is she again?”

“A hundred and thirty nine,” you reply factually. You swear Sabo brakes a bit too hard at the next stop sign. 

“You—you’re kidding.”

“Nope!”

“Hm.” He says it blankly, but you catch the curious sparkle of his eyes in the rearview mirror. “And her handle is _youthfulImmortal,_ no, that makes sense now. That’s incredible, really. I hope you don’t mind me asking this, but how does she stay...you know.”

“Alive?”

He nods.

“She’s a doctor!”

“I...” Sabo frowns. “I’m not following. You mentioned earlier that she’s the head surgeon at Drum Hospital, but that doesn’t explain—“

“Not Drum.”

“Hmm?”

“She doesn’t work at Drum, she works at Sakura General,” you explain. The number of times your grandmother has thrown a fit because you mentioned Drum instead of Sakura have taught you to never confuse the two.

The difference in Sabo’s demeanor after that would have been visible to you even if you _weren't_ a licensed junior psychiatrist. His jaw clenches, shifting his scarf slightly, and he looks slightly more over his shoulder to see you. “Ah. That might explain how she found me, then. If she ran the plates on my car against the Sakura database, then...” He laughs dryly, a more adult-feeling sound than the other laughs he's made. “Well, I guess you’re learning a bit more about your grandmother’s more dubious practices tonight than you bargained for.”

You shrug. “Not really, she’s just like that.”

“Huh.”

“You’re in Sakura’s database?”

“Yeah, I lived in E. Grand for a while when I was younger.”

“Does that have anything to do with how you got your scar?”

Sabo looks startled for a moment, then quickly focuses back on the road. Shoot, you just blew it! You jumped into the deep end without looking. You doubt he’ll give you a straight answer now.

“Why don’t we just mark my whole Sakura incident down as a point for investigative journalism,” he finally decides, cracking a small smile. Dang it, you guess that’s all you’re getting tonight. Maybe next time you visit the Monkey residence you’ll ask him for some advice on how to be a better detective—that could get him talking again.

Sabo tries the radio a few times, but all the stations are dead. No signal. The two of you sit in silence as you enter the highway, and to your embarrassment, you can’t help but be bored.

Your sprite flashes behind you, casting little pink silhouettes of you onto the seat. You take a look at him—it’s kind of weird to see your hat flashing inside a floating pink orb, but you guess it’s not too crazy. You are a talking reindeer after all. 

“What is it, buddy?” you whisper sweetly. No reply, he just flashes some more. You wish he could talk.

He flashes even more brightly, prompting Sabo to adjust the rearview mirror. Oops, now you feel bad about this. “Sorry, buddy, but we can talk once we get to my house, ‘kay?”

For something without a face, he looks almost dejected as you turn back to sit properly in your seat. Poor thing. Bored and now isolated from any entertaining conversation, you find yourself thinking about the game. Oh, right! Luffy told you to eat the mushroom, you pinky swore.

You pull it out of your pocket and grimace at the idea. You don’t know how it’s going to taste, or if it’s even going to have any effect. Well, down the hatch you guess.

You bite into your AMIUDAKE MUSHROOM.

To your complete surprise, it tastes sweet, and has a really fluffy inside texture that you weren’t expecting. Like cotton candy! In fact, it’s so yummy that you don’t even realized you’ve eaten the whole thing until it’s gone. Guess Luffy was right, you really should have just eaten it when he said so.

You and Sabo continue the drive in relative silence for another minute or so. Your tummy feels satisfied from the cotton candy mushroom treat, you think that went really well, all things considered. Now you’re just itching to get home to some wifi, you really want to get back to playing and see if anything has changed.

“Hey, Sabo?” you ask.

He hums noncommittally, his eyes focused on the road.

“How much longer do you thi—“

_“OH FUCK!”_

You scream in alarm as your whole world seems to shake, and Sabo jerks the wheel hard to the left to just narrowly avoid a massive flaming _something_ that’s just appeared in the middle of the road. The tires screech beneath you. Even with your seatbelt on, you’re thrown against the side of the car as your driver agonizingly attempts to fix the skid, and then suddenly the entire landscape around you seems to change and the car jolts to a sickeningly sharp stop at a downward angle and you feel a _snap._

Your left antler snaps messily in half, but you barely notice it, because all of a sudden your heart is pumping pure adrenaline and it’s really hot and humid in here and the sun is suddenly shining through the lack of a blizzard, and for some reason that you don’t want to think about too hard Sabo is slumped over the steering wheel and he’s not moving. 

Your brain tries to reconcile the change in scenery and somewhat succeeds. You were just in a car crash, somehow. You have far more than basic emergency medical training. You have to get out of here before something bad happens, and you have to make sure Sabo’s okay. You never want to be stuck in the car, Doctorine taught you that. You should listen to her.

You try the seatbelt—stuck. Switching to Heavy Point lets you easily rip the apparatus free and you punch out the window, then switch back to Brain Point to pull yourself through. Your sprite follows.

Your feet land on a strange surface, and, unsure of what you were expecting, you fall forward. It has a rough organic texture to it, not like dirt, but kind of like...like skin? Gosh, it’s so hot, you have to get out of this jacket, you peel off your winter layers until you're just in your shorts.

You pull yourself upright and, even though your plan was to go straight to help Sabo, the brilliance of the scenery in front of you immediately grabs all your attention.

The sun gleams just over a curved horizon before you, sparkling over the canopy of a massive jungle. Between you and the jungle stands a grand marble city in ruins. It looks empty, but something about how empty it is just makes it seem even bigger. Multicolored clouds mingle with the city and structures, and the further into the forest you look, the less you can see. You can hear the wind, and a faint sound of water crashing against something, but other than that, everything is silent. At the entrance to the city is a single arched gateway, on which you can see five words:

LAND OF FABLES AND MARTYRS

You squint and look closer, noticing that the letters are actually floating just above the surface of the arch. They’re flickering slightly, cycling through the alphabet, but for the most part they come back to the same message. That’s the SLINE font. That must be it. This must be part of the game, you're _in_ the game now.

What kind of game would ever make your car crash?

Your breath catches a little and you decide to ignore it, because for all intents and purposes, you are in a CRISIS. You may not do so well when you’re alone, but you know how to handle a CRISIS, and freaking out is _not_ part of your crisis protocol.

First up. Sabo. He’s still in the car, you _never_ want to be stuck in the car. The car looks like it hit some piece of the ruins, the front is crumpled to a point where you can’t open the door normally. You switch to Heavy Point and rip the door off the driver side, then pull Sabo free of the seat and bring him to the ground. His hat has been thrown aside, and a concerning amount of blood is trickling from the side of his head across the worn seats. There’s an emergency medkit in your sylladex, it’s always there for emergencies—but you don’t even have to check it before you know. You didn’t get to him in time.

He’s gone.

You sit back a bit, try to control your breathing yet again, and find that it is now considerably harder to do so.

You furiously try to swallow the tears that are suddenly streaming down your face. This isn’t a game anymore. Sabo’s gone—no, wait, you’re a doctor and you can’t dodge it, he’s _dead._ Completely, unequivocally dead because of the game you played. Sabo died because he tried to bring you home. He’s dead now because of you. 

Something flashes near you—your sprite, probably? You can’t bring yourself to look away anyway, you’re just staring now, wondering if there’s anything you could have done, or worse, if you did anything wrong. All of a sudden there’s a bright flash in front of you and you scrunch your eyes shut. 

“...Tony? What’s wrong?”

You start and open your eyes, staring at...is that Sabo? Is he wearing your hat? Is he alive? Is he _pink?_

He stares at you with more than a little concern, and you suddenly realize you’re still crying. Did you misdiagnose him? He was pretty clearly dead, no, that’s no misdiagnosis, he was dead and now he’s not. You swipe at your eyes quickly, smearing tears across your fur. “I-I’m okay,” you lie. “I-I, I just, I thought you were dead, but you’re not, dead, you’re just...you’re...”

“A sprite now?” Sabo supplies.

“I guess so.”

He shrugs, which you think is kinda nonchalant for someone who just died in a car crash and maybe gave you some survivor’s guilt level anxiety. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that, Tony. It couldn’t have been fun.”

You shake your head.

“Well, I wish I could say that you won’t see things like that again, but. Hmm.” Sabo looks deeply lost in thought. You notice that he kind of looks good in a big top hat like that. “Well, from what I know, I don’t think your land plans to take it easy on you.”

You’re about to ask him what he means when your phone buzzes from your sylladex. You scroll through your notifications—they’re all from Zoro. You can’t help but feel a tide of relief wash over you, knowing that Zoro is online. After all, all of you were so worried about him, since he probably fought his dad.

\- - theSwordsman [TS] has formed alliance “idiot crisis hotline” \- -  
\- - theSwordsman [TS] allied with kaizokuKing [KK] \- -  
\- - theSwordsman [TS] allied with flightyFingers [FF] \- -  
\- - theSwordsman [TS] allied with octoDisciples [OD] \- -  
\- - theSwordsman [TS] allied with etherealGourmet [EG] \- -  
\- - theSwordsman [TS] allied with pocketGentleman [PG] \- -  
\- - theSwordsman [TS] allied with naiveReality [NR] \- -  
\- - theSwordsman [TS] allied with cocacolaCollaborator [CC] \- -  
\- - theSwordsman [TS] allied with dearlyDeparted [DD] \- -

TS: hello?

\- - all members are currently unavailable - -

TS: oh boy.  
TS: okay shit here goes  
TS: actually, wait. Why should i say anything now? I’m the only one reading this, I’m just wasting his battery.  
TS: wait he’s unconscious my battery now bitch  
TS: i  
TS: what??  
TS: gosh why did I say that???  
TS: oof, I’m gonna just play flappy bird until someone else gets in here.

\- - pocketGentleman [PG] is now online - -

PG: zoro, where did you go?!  
PG: everyone’s looking for you, AGAIN!  
PG: did you get into a strife?  
TS: tony!  
TS: oh boy, I feel pretty bad, sorry for this in advance.  
TS: can you come here? Or at least try logging the others, something’s funky and I can’t get to anyone else.  
TS: are you in the game?  
PG: i think so?  
PG: why, where are you zoro?  
TS: ho boy okay  
TS: so  
TS: roronoa zoro’s *here*  
TS: i’m just not him  
TS: and he’s not really so okay???  
TS: unfortunately he’s currently unconscious. Nice going, digus.  
TS: wait, what am I saying?

Your stomach sinks. This kind of typing doesn’t sound like Zoro at all, no wonder it’s not him. But then where’s Zoro? And why is Zoro unconscious? Why does this person know Zoro and have his phone? Oh, no, you hope he’s safe.

PG: hold on hold on, i am so confused!  
PG: you’re kind of starting to scare me which is really saying something because i am ALRADY pretty scared  
PG: so you’re not zoro? then who are you? is he okay?  
PG: and whats a digus  
TS: I don’t know! But apparently he's one of them according to me  
TS: or not me?  
TS: this is so confusing  
TS: i honestly couldn’t tell you who/how/where/why/what I am  
TS: but for now...I guess you can call me Kuinasprite?  
TS: no wait actually i fucking hate that.  
TS: hm.  
TS: for lack of better inspiration than Zoro’s stupid denden handle  
TS: my name is nowwwww Tashigi.  
PG: tashigi? okay  
PG: hello tashigi nice to meet you  
PG: also HOW IS ZORO?!  
TS: stabbed  
PG: WHAT  
TS: deserved it  
TS: gah, no he didn’t!  
PG: exPAILN  
TS: well he fought his dad and then tried to fight his first boss  
TS: he fell down some stairs, then he killed her  
TS: and I prototyped myself with her corpse so now I’m her combined with Zoro’s glasses which I guess makes me  
TS: i keep getting super conflicted on stuff, like I want to defeat him but also want to see him succeed ugh it’s bipolar and gross  
TS: anyway tho he’s bleeding out.  
PG: CALL ME RIGHT THEW HELCK NIW  
TS: wow easy there tiger

Clearly you have to do this yourself. You hold your phone in front of your face and call Zoro—well, Tashigi, currently, already trying to wrap your mind about the fact that Zoro somehow managed to find a boss already. Aren’t you only supposed to find a boss in a dungeon area, or at least at the end of some puzzle-filled quest? How did he fall down the stairs and _already_ fight a boss?

The phone connects and you see who you can only guess is Tashigi. She looks practically identical to the pictures you’ve seen of Kuina, except for the cracked pair of glasses sliding down her nose and the fact that she’s, you know, a green sprite ghost.

She waves, a surprisingly friendly gesture considering what you know about Kuina. _“Hey, Tony—”_

“Lemme see him,” you say as soon as the connection’s established. 

To her credit she doesn’t waste time and just turns the camera. Zoro, to your surprise, is actually unconscious, and he does _not_ look good. He’s got some rudimentary patchwork bandaging over his left eye, and one of his ankles is cut almost completely through.

Okay, Tony. You can’t freak out about this. You already _had_ your chance to freak out, and Sabo’s back anyway, so that’s at least some proof that gaming logic applies here and people can be healed and you don’t have an excuse to get scared. You’ve gotta go full-on thesis mode for this one.

You spend probably half your battery on the phone with Tashigi, directing her on what to do to ensure that Zoro has the highest possible chance of survival. By the time you two are done, you think you’ve exhausted every medical trick you know, but at least Zoro is stable.

_“Thanks for your help, Chopper,”_ Tashigi finally says. _“I did what I could on my own, but I guess I’m no life player.”_

“A life player?”

She frowns at you. _“Yeah. Sylph of Life... What, did your sprite not even tell you_ that _much?”_

You look over to where Sabo used to be. Used to. As in, he’s gone.

You make another mental note to add him to the Monkey family kicking list.

“I guess he’s more like his brothers than I thought,” you reply, failing to keep the saltiness from your voice. You guess you can’t really blame him for leaving, he didn’t exactly join this game by choice. Still, abandoning you without saying anything? That’s just rude.

_“I can explain to you, if you’d like? Sprites gain a lot of information when being prototyped, and we’re supposed to be vague as shit about it, but I don’t really like that so I’ll tell you whatever. Also, my player’d be impossible to direct otherwise.”_

You think about that for a moment. “Isn’t that like cheating?”

_“Yeah, but honestly, I think this game is meant to be cheated.”_ She leans back, crossing her arms. _“Go ahead, ask me anything. I’ll be as forward as possible.”_

“Okay.” Gosh, now that you have a moment, so many questions come to mind. You guess you can start with the bigger ones. “So the game is real.”

_“Obviously.”_

“So where does this place exist? My—my _land_ , like you and Sabo said.”

_“Fables and Martyrs? Uhhhhh, relative to Zoro’s, I’m not entirely sure. As I understand it, all of the player lands exist in the game construct, the Medium.”_

“Then where’s home?”

She shrugs. _“Somewhere else.”_

“Can you quit the game and go home?”

_“By the end of this game, there won’t be a home left to go back to.”_

“What?! Why?”

_“Meteors.”_

Everything clicks. Holy shit, that’s what Franky and Nami were investigating, that’s what was going on with the meteors, they’re going to destroy Earth. The meteors are part of the game.

“What about the people back there?” you yelp. “They’re my friends, I have to warn them!”

_“Tony, I already tried messaging people who aren’t in the game, it didn’t work. Try it, it won’t go through.”_

You’re already typing.

\- - pocketGentleman [PG]  opened log to youthfulImmortal [YI] \- -

PG: doctorine are you there?  
PG: i’m okay, i made it into a place safely, i don’t know if you know about the crash but i wanted to let you know that I’m still alive!  
PG: i even did some good doctor work, you’d be proud of me! i saved my friend’s life, he was bleeding out because he was fighting stupidly like a digus  
PG: doctorine?  
PG: grandma?  
PG: please respond  
PG: grandma there are a lot of really bad meteors and i don’t want anything bad to happen to you  
PG: i mean you’re super strong and really smart i bet you could like heal a meteor or something and fix everything  
PG: why aren’t you replying????  
PG: i guess tashigi was right  
PG: please stay safe  
PG: i love you

\- - pocketGentleman [PG]  closed log to youthfulImmortal [YI] \- -

“Dang it,” you say. Your voice catches a bit. 

_“Sorry, Tony. I know it must be scary.”_

“No, no, it’s okay. I guess I just have to have faith that the others will... Do we even _want_ everyone to enter the game?”

_“Look at it this way: you’re here, instead of being dead, because you played the game. Same for my player.”_

“Can I keep asking questions?”

_“You just did.”_

That gets a little giggle out of you. “Oh, stop it! So, what’s that ‘Sylph of Life’ thing you mentioned?”

_“That’s your classpect. Think of it like your in-game archetype, like fighter, or wizard, or whatnot. There’s a class—Sylph in your case—and an aspect, which is Life. That means you use Sylph abilities to make some sort of impact on life.”_

Ooh. That sounds like fun, you won’t deny it. “So, like, a healer?”

_“Depending how you use it, but yeah, essentially a doctor.”_

Awesome. “Do you know what everyone else is?”

_“No, only the people already in the game. Zoro’s the Knight of Doom. Everything that stands in his way gets destroyed, including himself.”_ She rolls her eyes and then readjusts her glasses. _“For the most part, I’d say he fits the ticket.”_

You snort despite yourself. You can’t help it! It may be a little dark, but that kind of grisly stuff _definitely_ fits him. “Hehe, for sure. What’s his world like?”

Tashigi takes a look around. _“I haven’t gone outside yet, so I don’t know much of what it’s like, but I do know about his quest and some of the lore. It’s Land of Directions and Bosses—straightforward as usual. He takes directions, and fights bosses, and that’s it. He already fought one, which went about as well as you’d expect for a guy who’d been recently unarmed and uneyed. I can hear water outside, but that’s it, which is kind of weird, because there’s supposed to be a whole civilization in each land. Consorts and denizens and such, NPCs.”_

“Come to think of it, I can’t see anyone here either. And I can hear water too!”

_“Any idea where it is?”_

“I thought you knew stuff about the ‘Medium’ and its lore?” 

_“Well, I’m supposed to. Something’s wrong, I don’t know anything regarding layout of the lands or the other worlds we’d need to reach to progress.”_

“Interesting. Hold on, lemme check.” You switch to Walk Point and almost immediately pick up a strong whiff of seawater. It seems as if it’s coming from...well, all around you. Weird, are you on some kind of island? You squint and look off into the distance, and yeah, now you think you can see a water line. It goes far. 

“How big are the worlds?”

_“Small planets. You should be centered around your alchemy setup, on some outcropping of land.”_

You frown. “Then how am I supposed to come to you?”

_“You kill enemies, you get grist, you make some cool gadgets, and you fly here.”_

“But I don’t have an alchemy setup,” you say. “Everything’s still in Luffy’s house, all I have is the car Sabo drove us in and what I brought to Luffy’s house.”

_“Well, do you have a computer?”_

You pluck it from your sylladex in reply.

_“Perfect.”_

You try and think through this. You don’t really get what’s going on, it’s all kind of coming in waves of belief and disbelief. “So. Are you saying you’re going to connect Zoro to me right now? And I have to defeat enemies to get what you need for making things?”

_“Don’t worry about enemies for now, it looks as if your place is pretty empty right now. I’m gonna use Zoro’s grist for your stuff, he’s got a mountain of the stuff from killing me.”_

“Oh.” You guess it’s a relief that you don’t have to fight anyone. You think you’d rather just sit back for a bit and let someone else do the driving. “So what now?”

_“Now?”_

Tashigi grins. 

_“Now we get you airborne.”_

~ ~ ~

====> Sanji: Dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [A hot take](https://dizzydotdiscourse.tumblr.com/post/179404402514/catsune-miku-we-had-a-good-conversation-today)


	12. ====> Sanji: Dream.

You are immediately woken by a boot to the face.

You splutter awake, your thumbs still twitching as if you were still typing a heinously long stream of respects into a group log. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the low light here aaaaaand what the fuck there’s a dude in your bed.

Three million different streams of PURELY HETEROSEXUAL THOUGHT simultaneously cross and explode in your mind as you stare at this asshole, tossing and turning like an absolute douche who _is in your bed and why is he in your bed_.

You’ve launched yourself upright and kicked him in the face in retaliation before you’ve even fully realized that you’re not in your room above Baratie. Where the _fuck_ are you? Did someone take you from the restaurant or something without waking you up? Ah fuck, your clothing changed too. That’s fucked up. You look around in an almost manic rush for any clue of where you are. Everything is purple—your bed, your pajamas, the walls, even the decorations. It even kind of looks like your room, if your room had a color scheme that was just the same exact fucking color save for _this golden asshole._

You turn on your now even more restless trespasser, who’s now tossing and turning on the floor and making odd distressed noises at a volume that’s just barely too loud for you to ignore. Crap, you still have basic human decency, you can’t help but feel the tiniest bit of pity for him. Maybe you should wake him up. Gah, but what if he’s the reason you’re stuck here? You try to summon your CHEF KNIVES from your strife portfolio and find that, whoopdedoo, they ain’t there. Great. Well, you can always kick him again if he tries anything.

Looking around more reveals a few exits. There’s a door—you dash over to it and try it, locked. Kicking it does nothing, which is weirdly a new experience for you. You try the next option, a window, but give up immediately. It’s barred. Too narrow to fit through, too thick to break without a weapon.

Seeing the bars reminds you of something that, oddly enough, you can’t remember. You just know you hate it.

Okay. So you’re trapped here. In your room, with a dude who’s having a really shitty nap. He’s also locked in here with you, maybe he’s not the cause after all. God you need a cigarette.

You crouch down next to him and grab his shoulder, shaking him a little harder than you probably should. “Hey. Hey asshole. Wake up.”

_“Mmmdntwnnuhhh...”_

“Huh?”

“‘M don’ _wanna,”_ he grumbles, almost attempting to enunciate but somewhat falling short. Ass.

“Fuck that, you’re in my room, you’re getting the hell up.” You shove him a little harder and then pull him upright _shit_ he’s heavier than you expected, you can’t quite keep him sitting up and he winds up slumped over you and kind of pinning you to the floor. Was...was he sleep-talking? He sure as hell doesn’t look awake anymore.

You spend the better part of two minutes trying to shove him off of you—the guy’s like a potato sack, if the sack was filled with lead instead of potatoes. Finally you succeed, but only once you’re able to get your legs out from under him and use them to launch him across the bedroom.

He hits the wall and immediately wakes up, falling to his knees in a coughing fit. Boy does he look out of it. You guess you _did_ kick him in the face multiple times though. He has a right to look like...well, like he got kicked in the face.

“ _Ahhh_ —what the fuck did you do _that_ for?” he snaps, a hand pressed tightly over his left eye. You pull yourself to your feet and attempt as intimidating of a posture as possible (conveniently, your pants already have pockets, half your work’s already done). You watch him also pull himself upright, then survey the room with far more patience than you had. Gosh, _fuck,_ he looks so annoyingly out of place here, all gold and with that disgustingly unruly mop of green hair, it’s such a terrible look in here, it practically hurts your eyes. “Where the fuck am I? What did you do?”

“Hey, don’t go blaming _me_ for this,” you snap right back, finding a bit of your usual smugness when this asshole glowers at you. “I’m stuck here, same as you.”

He thinks on that for a moment, then seems to come to a conclusion.

“Ah,” he says, slowly letting a sly smile work onto his face. “I get it, you’re too weak so you didn’t even bother trying anything. You could’a just said so, man.”

He pushes past you and tries the door, oblivious to the fact that you’re staring at him like he just mispronounced hors d’ourves.

“I—WHAT? What the hell kind of assumption is that?!” you growl, walking up to him. You take some pleasure in the fact that he doesn’t have any more luck forcing the door open than you did.

When he steps back, he seems to take a longer look at you, and you can’t help but do the same. He looks to be about your age and height, though easily more built than you. You can’t help but find his hair ridiculous—green and spiky, really? Yonji looks stupid but this is just sad. What kind of edgy bullshit vibe is this guy trying to pull off? It doesn’t really work, although, you guess, if he’s going for an edgy aesthetic, the scar over his left eye does help. That and the fact that his eye on that side is just pure white. It’s honestly kind of unsettling. If his hair didn’t look so stupid you might actually find him threatening.

“What’s up with your face?” he suddenly says.

“...What _about_ my face?”

“Your. You know.” He makes a motion to your whole face.

“Thanks, really narrowed it down,” you offer dryly.

“No, fuck, your—your _eyebrows_ , what the fuck happened to make them like that?”

To your horror, you can feel your face going hot with embarrassment, and you immediately scramble to rearrange your hair so it covers half your face and conveniently obscures what is clearly _none of this asshole’s business._

“Y-you’re one to talk,” you stammer back, arms crossed. “What with your stupid haircut and scar, your face looks like something you’d find on a low-budget extra from a shitty action movie.” Nice one, Sanji. Nailed it.

He frowns. “Uh. Maybe those stupid eyebrows make it hard to see, but I don’t have a scar.”

“Oh really, mosshead?” You make a slicing motion across your eye with your thumb. “Guess that whole eye fiasco must’ve made _you_ stupid.”

“Eye fiasc—“ He runs a hand over his eye and stops over the scar, suddenly looking confused. “Wait, what the hell, I thought that was a dream?! What the fuck?”

Finally the idiot seems to realize how monumentally screwed the two of you are, stuck in this mockery of Baratie’s attic with no company but yourselves. About time.

“The scar’s new, I take it?” you say, a little less dryly than you anticipated.

“I fucking guess?! Hell, how did it scar so fast? I—“ He stops, shaking his head to clear it. “Fuck, it’s not important. How do you get out of this place?”

You gape at him. “I _literally_ just told you we’re stuck here, asshole.”

“Great, so now you’re useless too,” he snarls. “Alright, guess it’s my job to bail us out of here. Do me a favor and stay out of the way, huh?”

This asshole shoves you aside yet again, except this time he makes a beeline for your desk and starts indiscriminately going through your stuff. You suppress your urge to help him find something pointy to stab himself with and follow after him. “Hey, wait just a fucking second! I still have questions for you. Like why the fuck did I wake up in _my_ bed—not yours, mind you—with YOU IN IT?”

He pauses in his rummaging and gives you a side eye, singular, for half a second, before turning back to your computer. You _swear_ this motherfucker smirks a little when he says, matter-of-factly, “Not my type.”

You gawk at him, not sure whether to be annoyed, offended, or relieved by the implications of that statement. Fuck, no, Sanji, _not_ the time to think about this.

“Fuck, what the hell is your password, asshole? Can’t be that hard.” He lets out another frustrated groan and tries typing something again—you’re almost certain you catch him typing _PASSWORD3_ into the password box. Oh my god, he really is an idiot.

“What the hell do you think you’re even doing?” you snap, watching him type _PASSWORD4_ in next. God, this actually physically hurts you to watch.

“Denden,” he replies. “Maybe someone can tell me why the fuck I wound up in the bed of a colossal curly-browed asshole.” Okay, actually not a bad idea. Maybe Robin knows what the hell’s going on? She always seems to know what’s going on.

“And...you didn’t even think to ask me to log in to my own computer and figure out the same? But instead you tried to hack my account?”

He slows to a stop, barely even making it to _PASSWO_. Aha, got ‘im.

“I thought so. Move over, assface.” This time, you smirk and shove _him_ out of the way, sitting at your desk as he looks on frustratedly over your shoulder. “Watch as a master hacker, using common sense and logic, hacks his own account by simply typing in his own password!”

“Fuck off,” he says, but you’re unaffected. You’re too smug right now. You type in your password— _devilsblue—_ and open Denden. Nothing from Robin, oddly, but it seems that your client player has been trying to reach you.

\- -  flightyFingers [FF] opened log to  etherealGourmet [EG]  \- -

FF: sanji are you there?  
FF: i got viv to go in the sprite and—  
FF: something’s wrong.  
FF: she’s fine but something’s very wrong!  
FF: everyone’s gone, my entire apartment block.  
FF: anyway there’s cake everywhere and i am  
FF: EXTREMELY unsettled.  
EG: Nami!!! <333  
EG: What’s wrong??? Is the game working alright?  
FF: sanji thank fuck  
FF: well, how the hell should i know? my building just fucking teleported itself to another plane of existence and now there’s cake everywhere!  
EG: Everywhere?  
FF: e v e r y w h e r e  
EG: Is it good?  
EG: What kind is it?  
FF: no, stupid, get your cooking boner out of my misery!  
EG: sorry <3<3<3  
FF: it’s not like i have a delicious cake sitting on my desk or anything  
FF: i mean the world is *literally* made of cake!  
EG: Wow!!!  
EG: Damn, that sounds deliciohsgilflhdjgkdhhffffhfffff

Your typing is rudely interrupted by something heavy knocking you to the ground. You see stars for a moment, and when you stop seeing those, you see _him,_ pulling back his fist for a second time. You make the connection that this smug prick just punched you in the face.

“What the fuck are you doing?! I was _talking_ to Nami,” you snap at him, though to be honest, he’s really fucking heavy and it’s a little hard to breathe with him sitting on top of you.

“You’re Sanji!”

“ _What?!_ ”

“You’re the _fucker_ who hacked my phone during practice! All of this is _your_ fault, if you hadn’t done what that _IDIOT_ had asked you, I wouldn’t have had to kill Kuina in the _first_ place!”

Oh?

You look at the face leering over you and make the next logical connection.

 _...Ohh_.

Oh no.

YOU ARE LOCKED IN YOUR BEDROOM WITH RORONOA ZORO.

You’ve barely gotten a chance to process this information before Zoro has punched you in the face and you wake up suddenly, at your desk back in your room—your _real_ room, in Baratie. You hear some commotion downstairs, maybe, but it goes in one ear and out the other because you’re still trying to parse what the hell you just witnessed.

You wipe the crust from your eyes—did you fall asleep while texting Nami and Robin? No, no, that’s not important right now. Right now, you need to know what the _fuck_ just happened.

\- -  etherealGourmet [EG] opened log to  theSwordsman [TS]  \- -

EG: HEY ASSHOLE  
EG: WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT  
EG: WHY THE FUCK WERE YOU IN MY DREAM AND WHY WERE YOU IN MY FUCKING BED

\- -  theSwordsman [TS] is currently unavailable - -

EG: GAH YOU’RE INSUFFERABLE I’M GLAD YOU GOT IN TROUBLE WITH YOUR SHIT DAD  
EG: BY THE WAY YOUR FACE IS STUPID

Ew. God, you hate talking to him. You hate his stupid face, you hate his stupid voice, you hate his stupid gold pajamas, you hate his stupid everything! But you need an explanation, and you need it right the fuck now.

\- -  etherealGourmet [EG] opened log to  kaizokuKing [KK]  \- -

EG: Alright I did you a favor today, now I need to talk to Shithead ASAP. Pay the Piper.  
KK: hey nonono  
KK: no coming to me for your zoro issues  
KK: you got him megagrounded not me  
KK: dm him yourself  
EG: He won’t answer! And it was your fault don’t even start that, you asked me to get his attention!  
KK: i didnt want to get him in trouble with his dad tho thats on you  
KK: message him in a new group  
EG: I don’t have everyone’s info... Can’t you just add me back?  
KK: you left our awesome group  
KK: no takebacks if you leave me zoro said so  
EG: GAH then add me back! I don’t care about his stupid rules.  
EG: Hell, add everyone back! I need to ask everyone about something important.  
KK: mmmmmmmmhmmmmmmmm  
KK: not hearing any bribery yet  
KK: whats in it for me  
EG: You know Cheryl’s Cookies? That pastry company that you get your cookies from?  
KK: hhhhhhhh  
KK: how could i forget  
KK: cheryls my wife  
EG: I’ll send you a month’s worth of homemade shit that’ll put Madame Cheryl to shame.  
KK: oh jmy god  
KK: really?  
EG: Frosted.  
KK: say no more

\- - kaizokuKing [KK] has formed alliance “serious platform for sanji to bake what is on his menu” \- -  
\- - kaizokuKing [KK] allied with theSwordsman [TS] - -  
\- - kaizokuKing [KK] allied with flightyFingers [FF] - -  
\- - kaizokuKing [KK] allied with octoDisciples [OD] \- -  
\- - kaizokuKing [KK] allied with etherealGourmet [EG] \- -  
\- - kaizokuKing [KK] allied with pocketGentleman [PG] \- -  
\- - kaizokuKing [KK] allied with naiveReality [NR] \- -  
\- - kaizokuKing [KK] allied with cocacolaCollaborator [CC] \- -  
\- - kaizokuKing [KK] allied with dearlyDeparted [DD] \- -

KK: go man gO  
EG: Alright everyone shut the fuck up because I had a dream!!!  
EG: And that dream involved @theSwordsman showing up in my dream just to be useless  
EG: Y’all better help me pester him until you fill his inbox and he explains what the fuck just happened and why he was in my bed!!!  
NR: Homoerotic dreams concerning a strapping young man and yourself sharing a bed? Hmm.  
NR: Perhaps ~you~ should be the one explaining to us, no? ~u~  
EG: oh my god  
KK: oOoOoOoO  
CC: oooooooooooo  
DD: OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO  
EG: YOU LITTLE SHITS SHUT THE FUCK UP!  
EG: EVERYONE MINUS ROBIN SHUT THE FUCK UP  
EG: And  
EG: Who the fuck are you @dearlyDeparted  
DD: Ah, you must be Sanji! Sorry to say, I just missed you. Me and a frenemesis had an unfortunate conversation in your bedroom which turned into a full-on trading of blows, but rest assured, everything eventually went right as rain!  
DD: I also noticed that before you passed out you were talking to some lovely ladies, yohohoho, young man. And now a “strapping young man” as well? Well done, what a player! You must introduce me to the lucky lad and ladies some time, seeing as I suppose we’ll be seeing a lot of each other in the next few days. Are you aware I’m to be your server player?  
DD: No worries, my new friends should help me get the hang of it in no time! I’ll be like a bone-a-fide hacker by nightfall! YOHOHO!  
EG: I  
EG: I’m so lost  
NR: Hold on, this should assist you~

Yet again, you experience another uncomfortably sudden scene change, where one second you’re in your real bedroom, and the next, a remarkably strong hand has slapped you awake and you’re on the purple floor staring at the purple ceiling once more while Zoro now makes an absolute mess of your bedroom.

You sit upright sharply, watching as this asshole rears back with your desk chair in hand and smashes it directly over the top of your laptop. The computer whines and sparks in dismay, then goes dark altogether.

“HEY! DOUCHEBAG!” you holler at him, jumping to your feet. He stops in surprise for a split second and you launch yourself at him, using your momentum to shove him aside so you can get a better look at your laptop. You watch in absolute disillusionment as the screen flashes the Denden logo once, then literally cracks in half in your hands. Your baby.

“Better to be in pieces than yours,” Zoro snaps—okay, forget basic human decency, this fucker is _dead_.

This time when you launch yourself at him, it’s for the kill. You don’t have your strife portfolio with you, but fuck it, you can kill someone with normal shoes, right?

Your heel colliding with his jaw is the most satisfying thing you’ve felt today, and you absolutely _relish_ the fact that he goes flying across the room for the second time since you first woke up here. You grin at him and lift your chin up, really emphasizing the “looking down on you” thing. “ _God_ , I am going to enjoy this.”

He staggers upright, wiping a trail of blood from his face on the back of his hand. When he looks at you, his eye screams murder.

Good to know you’re both on the same page.

He yells wordlessly and springs forward—you do the same, heel ready to pulverize his face and bash his skull in when suddenly _oh fuck hands._

Zoro makes a similar UNDIGNIFIED SQUEAK OF SURPRISE as hands sprout out of the floor and ceiling without any warning—before you can try to dodge, they’ve grabbed your heel and _literally fucking flipped you 360 degrees like a pancake_ until you’re laid out on the floor like an absolute asshole. Simultaneously, the hands grab Zoro by the ankles and slam him into the floor beside you facefirst.

 _“Ha,”_ you force out, not knowing when a better opportunity to say so will present itself.

“Fuck you,” he spits back, though it comes out muffled through the floorboards. God, you will never forget this beautifully momentous moment. A pity that it will surely never be mentioned again.

“My, looks like someone _really_ wanted to keep you boys in here,” a smooth woman’s voice says from the window.

You look up and see what can only be described as a ray of pure sunshine—no, wait, no, sorry, you mistook Nico Robin for a goddess. That’s okay, it happens.

 _“Robin dearest!”_ you exclaim, vaulting to your feet and making a direct effort to step on Zoro’s back before bounding towards the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen in your life. She’s even more radiant in person!

“Hello, Mister Cook. Mister Swordsman,” she adds, nodding to Zoro on the floor who just flashes her a middle finger. She hums in amusement and leans her elbows on the outer part of the window. “Pardon me for stopping your fight, but I don’t think we’re ready to lose any dreamselves just yet. We’re already down one.”

“That’s alright,” you gush. “It’s such a waste of time having to deal with him, your arrival is a wonderful change to such a dreary existence!”

“I see.” She chuckles knowingly. “So it seems that two royal princes have been detained here against their will, with nobody for company but yourselves and the encroaching grip of madness. A tired trope, but now with a twist. Would either of you two dashing young rogues like to be stolen away by the princess for a change?”

~ ~ ~ ~

====> Nami: Explain yourself, immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In other news, still waiting for someone to be absolutely horrified at Luffy’s typing quirk :P


	13. ====> Nami: Explain yourself immediately.

Why? You havent done anything that needs explaining yet. You suppose you’ll have to explain yourself sooner rather than later, but for the moment, you can just let Vivi be content.

“This is incredible!”

Speak of the angel. You nod mutely as your girlfriend prances around the room in awe, fawning over the alchemy system that Sanji just finished installing. You really want to be as excited as she seems, but it’s really hard, considering that you are now one of the few keepers of the awful knowledge that the world is about to end.

But Vivi’s smiling. You suppose that that’s good enough for the moment—her smile could light up any doomed universe. You can hold off on your existential crisis over the nature of this stupid video game for a little while longer. 

Your phone pings.

EG: Nami sweet, could you be a darling and punch this in the totem lathe for me? <333  
FF: sure.

You and Vivi watch the cursor as it moves towards you and drops a small captchalogue card into your hands. Looks to be some weird round item. Whatever. You’re kind of resigned at this point. You do as he asks, and it creates a weird cylinder on the machine.

EG: Thank you lovely!!!  
FF: sanji can i be frank?  
EG: Anytime~  
FF: please just stop fawning over me. i am really, *really* not feeling it at the moment. and like i get that its supposed to be sweet and sometimes it is, but right now i kinda just want to make sure the people close to me don’t fucking die.  
EG: Oh :< Forgive me sweetheart, I’m just trying to do anything I can to lighten the mood~  
EG: After what lovely Robin has told us about the consequences of this game, it’s a bit hard to keep a positive attitude about anything.  
EG: I guess you’ve had a far worse day than I have, to put it mildly. I’m sorry if anything I’ve said has bothered you and I’ll do my best to tone it down!  
NR: Yes, I suppose an apology is in order from me as well. I’m not particularly good at...at people. At peopleing.  
FF: that’s not a word  
NR: So I’ve been told~  
NR: Regardless, my apology still stands, to the both of you. I hope you realize that I only involved you in this when there was no other option left me.  
EG: You could never do any wrong in my eyes, dearest!!! <3  
FF: yeah yeah. i know you two aren’t being assholes for no reason, i guess.  
FF: robin you just better come through with your promise  
NR: I will keep my word. As long as you follow what you believe is right, Bellemère will make it through these trying times.  
EG: Nami my swan, I hate to bother you but I need you to do one last thing for me! Can you hit the top of the cruxtruder with something? It needs to be hit with enough force to knock the top off.  


Sure. You can hit something hard. You think you deserve to beat the crap out of something at this point.

“Viv, stand back,” you say, pulling your BO BATON from your strife specibus. She’s fully distracted with the alchemiter, making whatever object Sanji was planning to without any instruction. Gosh your girlfriend’s so smart.

You yell in annoyance and rear back with the baton, slamming it hard into the top of the cruxtruder. The impact jolts the top loose, sending it crashing to the floor beside your bed. Damn it. That wasn’t nearly as satisfying as you’d hoped.

A bright orange orb pops out of the newly opened hole in the cruxtruder, lighting up your powerless apartment.

NR: Excellent, your sprite looks to be in good shape~  
EG: Wonderful!  
EG: Alright, ~ladies~ <333  
EG: Everything’s all set and ready to go, Nami dear! <333  
EG: Just put something in that glowy orb and we can get you on your way to  
EG: What was it again, Robin darling???  
NR: The Medium~  
EG: Thank you!!! <333

You eye the timer on your cruxtruder.

FF: whoa, wait, i’ve still got five minutes left on my timer.  
FF: how did you get all this stuff working so fast??  
EG: Anything for my lovely angels!!! <333  
NR: Apparently so. I appreciate your enthusiasm, Mister Cook~  
NR: Thanks to your expertise with programming and your knowledge of RPGs, you’ve excelled above and beyond the standards I had originally held you to. Some might even call this the game’s equivalent of a speed run.

“Nami, Nami, look here!” Vivi suddenly grabs your arm and pulls you in close. She holds up her other hand and displays a small box, of the same shade of orange the sprite is. “I made it using the alchemy system and the code you put in the lathe. Isn’t it beautiful?”

“A... Is that a compass?” You take the box from her hands and look at it more closely. It _is_ surprisingly beautiful, considering what it looked like on the captchalogue card. Fine craftwork, at least for something that came straight out of a video game crafting menu. It feels like real wood and glass, but it’s glowy and probably made from some weird incorporeal game construction thing. TL:DR? You wind up more than a little bit impressed. “Yeah, wow, it’s really well made! How much do you think it’s worth?”

Vivi gives you a tired look. “Really, Nami?”

“I’m being practical!”

“But...I made it for _you_.” She pouts and reaches for it. "I suppose, if you don't want it—"

"No, it's mine!" You clutch the item to your chest, having spontaneously decided to CHERISH THIS COMPASS WITH YOUR LIFE.

Your girlfriend grins at your change of expression, having played you like a fucking fiddle, and then goes off to observe your spritey orb. As she does, she spins, sending her ponytail whipping around behind her and really just accentuating how damn beautiful and perfect she is. Are you blushing? Your face feels hot, you’re probably blushing. You attempt to shake it off and return your attention to your group chat.

EG: Oh stop it, you’re making me blush! <333<333<333  
FF: great, the expression of <3 just lost all meaning.  
FF: so what now? i have a compass and a floating orb.  
NR: A sprite. It needs to be prototyped before you use your item—this way, we can ensure your safe entry to the Medium.  
NR: However, you must be careful in your prototyping, we can’t afford a catastrophic choice of additions.  
FF: uh.  
FF: so, i’m not an “mlg” gamer as the dorks say, what does this mean again?  
EG: (When she says “dorks” she means “Luffy”, Robin darling~)  
NR: I’ll try to be brief~  
NR: Miss Navigator, your sprite will act as your guide throughout the Medium, educating you on the appropriate means of traversing your world and completing your quest.  
NR: But additionally, the final boss of the game will inherit some trait of whatever it is you choose to prototype.  
NR: Say you throw in a hideous monster that eats children. Our final boss could potentially inherit that unending gluttony and lust for human flesh. Or you prototype the sprite with a puppy, and the final boss could inherit its razor-sharp teeth and claws~

Vivi squeals suddenly with glee, which, when combined with Robin’s terrifying morbidness, winds up scaring the shit out of you. You look over at her and see her observing your sprite’s odd floating around with a joy that you only rarely see on her face. You thought she wasn’t a gamer, why is she so excited over this? Whatever. You chalk it up to a love of discovery and return to the conversation.

FF: wow okay that’s fucking horrifying.  
NR: Well, as long as you make it something that can vocalize, it can be something as non-threatening as you’d like.  
EG: ...What happens if you add a person into the sprite?  
NR: Hm. Ideally they would gain enough knowledge to guide you through the game, while still maintaining their personality. However  
FF: a person? like who?

The idea hits you like a hammer to the skull.

FF: oh shit wait! vivi!  
NR: Oh dear.  
NR: Wait no, you shouldn’t just  
EG: Then you’d be able to bring her into the game too, right?!

“Sanji, you _beautiful_ bastard,” you whisper. Suddenly you can feel yourself grinning ear to ear. Holy shit, this is the answer to your problem. Who cares if the world disappears and you lose everyone? At least you’ll have Vivi. Hell, she’ll probably be an awesome guide!

“What did you say?” Vivi asks.

“Nothing, babe!”

FF: holy shit sanji you’re an absolute genius i love you i gotta go get vivi  
EG: you  
EG: i  
EG:  
EG: oh  
NR: Wait, Miss Navigator!  
EG:  
EG: ighufhhgffffhghfhhfh  
NR: This is an alarmingly bad idea, I highly suggest you don’t go through with it!  
NR: Nami, please don’t be hasty, the consequences of this could be unprecedented.  
FF: sorry robin but i’ve got a gf to prototype!  
EG: hbjdjhvbhhhhhhhhffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff

\- - flightyFingers [FF] has left the alliance - -

Oops, you think you just broke Sanji. Ah well. He could use a break. You’ve barely closed the app when your phone buzzes again.

NR: Nami, please reconsider this! You’re making a highly impulsive decision, that’s remarkably dangerous.

Ugh, Robin with her common sense. She must seriously be freaked out, she’s not even calling you by her dumb nickname. You’re already thinking about the possible ways of getting Vivi to prototype herself with your sprite, you don’t have time for this!

FF: hmmm, i’m hearing a lot of fancy descriptors and not enough explanation about why it could be worse than your plan. better talk fast!  
NR: Whatever you put in the sprite will affect our enemies and combat situations in-game.  
NR: Putting something inanimate or dead in there is typically recommended, but adding a living person to the sprite could potentially influence our session’s geography in a way hitherto undreamt of!  
FF: did you seriously just say “hitherto undreamt of”?  
NR: Are you seriously considering this path of action?  
FF: yes! i’m not letting my girlfriend be part of the fucking collateral of this bullshit game of unknown origins.  
FF: if i could make her a player i sure as hell would but trust me, she’d never believe that this game has any ramifications past altering a small space. weird alchemy, yes. meteors killing everyone but me and eight other people? no.  
NR: Please, Nami, be reasonable!  
FF: i’ll be reasonable if you actually give me a damn reason! i don’t get what’s so radical about not wanting my girlfriend to die, jesus christ  
NR: I’m sorry.  
NR: I don’t want to take drastic actions, Miss Navigator, but if you ~are~ going through with this, heedless of my warnings...  
NR: I cannot allow a living person to be prototyped, it leaves too much of this session’s landscape up to chance.  
NR: I am so sorry.  
FF: are...are you actually threatening me?  


\- -  naiveReality [NR]  closed log to  flightyFingers [FF]  \- -

...What the fuck. What the actual fuck. You knew Robin had some issues with being cryptic as all fuck, but you never thought she would be so crazy as to threaten you and Vivi. Well, now, out of pure spite, you think you’re gonna do it anyway. You should probably explain the situation to your girlfriend though.

“Viv,” you call, and she bounds to your side. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course.” She gives you a knowing look. “Why?”

“...I.” Hoo boy, this is going to be hard to explain. You sigh and, unsure of how to start this, fiddle with the compass. You actually wind up getting kind of distracted by how, when the needle starts spinning, it doesn’t stop. “Ooh.”

“Nami,” Vivi mutters, bringing you back to reality. You look back up at her and see the sprite floating neatly by her shoulder. Guess she made a friend—she’s good at that.

“Oh, right. Uh. How willing are you to suspend your disbelief?”

“Hmm.” Her eyebrows drop, her expression taking on more of her scholarly usual demeanor. “Well, this game _is_ a bit of a stretch for me, I’ll admit, but...hm.I’d say it depends on the caliber of information you’re asking me to suspend disbelief on?”

“Okay. Okay, I guess I might as well just—“

The window behind your computer shatters in a hail of glass, and you and Vivi instinctively scream and blindly fumble for each other in the dim light. You put yourself in front of Vivi and summon your baton, looking for the source of whatever caused the window to break—a bright red light catches your eye suddenly from across the street and you don’t even think you just shove Vivi back towards the sprite and _bang._

Your baton clatters to the ground in two pieces, the sniper’s bullet having sliced it effortlessly in half. Then you do the tropey movie thing that everyone does, despite yourself, and look down at your favorite t-shirt to see a very bloody hole right through the neckline.

~ ~ ~ ~

====> Vivi: Ascend.


	14. ====> Vivi: Ascend.

From the moment Nami shoves you into her sprite, your world is made of names.

Fragments of personalities, lives, hearts, minds, souls—all become the building blocks of your existence within a fraction of a second. Suddenly you’ve seen everything that everyone alive and dead has achieved, everything they’ve suffered, endured, fought for. Every bond especially—the ties between people that make miracles happen, the rifts that drive worlds apart. They shine like stars that drip from the sky, beacons to guide you in a sea of knowledge.

And when your mind integrates itself with the fabric of SLINE, you come to a terrible conclusion—

By the time the session is in full swing, everything you know and love will be erased.

You can’t let that happen.

You don’t know why you’re able to do it, or how, but you access the game’s code and look for whatever line pertains to—there, that one. The consort and denizen spawn sequence. It hasn’t been run yet for some reason. Neither has the enemy spawner. That’s okay. Just makes it easier to change.

You take every fragment that you’ve amassed—from years of study, from a hefty social media presence, from shadowing your father on diplomatic missions worldwide—and begin to make profiles. Names, statistics, numbers, alignments, organizational charts of who fits where and who does what and why, all wrapped up neatly under that person’s Denden handle. You begin to notice connections. Everyone can be tied back by some vague link to the nine people that you already know are the foundations of this network.

You make a folder with all the profiles. You title it “GRAND LOG”.

Then you set SLINE to import the folder, in place of the randomly generated consorts and denizens it had planned to make. You don’t care who goes where or what happens, as long as they all make it out of this world and into the new universe.

A warning pops up in your mind.

_THERE IS PREEXISTING DATA FOR ALL NPCS. DO YOU WISH TO OVERWRITE?  
Y/N._

You know what you have to do.

~ ~ ~ ~

====> Iceburg: Overwrite.


	15. ====> Iceburg: Overwrite.

...Huh.

You look around your office for a moment, not quite sure why something feels out of place. Maybe a breeze? Yes, that must be it.

Maybe you’re just on edge because you know that today is the day that is supposed to mark the ROMANCE DAWN.

Satisfied with your self-analysis, you return to your daily paper. News from Derse and Prospit, as usual, but now with a twist—the papers are doing heavy coverage of the celebrations planned for the Nobles. Everyone’s a mess today, thanks to the fabled holiday. It’s not a day off, obviously—days off don’t exist in the Land of Brands and Bridges. Still, everyone’s excited for the heroes to arrive, you can hear it buzzing.

After all, Romance Dawn is supposed to be the beginning of a brand new adventure.

~ ~ ~ ~

====> Luffy: Be absolutely bored out of your goddamn gourd.


	16. ====> Luffy: Be absolutely bored out of your goddamn gourd.

PSYCHE.

You are now Nami, and you are bleeding out from a bullet you took for your amazingly beautiful girlfriend. This seems like it was the correct choice.

In fact, if you read ahead a bit, you’d realize...actually wait, this is kind of meta. And we don’t get meta in One Piece. Alrighty, then, let’s restrict this POV. Shall we? You were bleeding out.

You _are_ bleeding out.

Good.

Glad we’ve established that. You are. Bleeding out. The blood is exiting, Stage Body. You know the way blood flows? Imagine that but like, out. That’s you.

“—ami. _NAMI!_ Damn it, don’t you _dare—_ ”

Vivi’s shaking of your shoulders jars you into a slightly more realistic state of being. Gah, what the fresh fuck are you doing, you’re getting blood all over your girlfriend now. Unbelievable. This is the worst date night ever.

“S-sorry,” you mumble, looking up at her worried eyes. Is she...more orange than you remember? Orange looks nice on her. “Occupational h-hazard.”

“Don’t even _think_ about being sorry, babe,” she says back. You think you can hear her sniffling quietly as she presses a soft kiss to your forehead. It feels nice. Not the crying, the kiss. Not a bad thing to remember before you die. Ah, fuck, you’re going to die. Just your luck. You don’t think you want to die yet. There’s too much you have left to do. You haven’t fixed anything with Nojiko, you haven't gotten Bellemère everything she needs. You don’t have the money to do what you need to yet. You’re not ready to die and leave the people who need you behind.

“Nami! Listen to me, babe. Focus on me. No zoning out, you hear me?”

“Well, it’s...s’not the first time,” you begin to say, but she quietly shushes you and your volume dies down without complaint.

“Listen to me, Nami,” she whispers, stroking your hair softly. “I understand what we’re doing here now, okay?”

“Okay.” You don’t get it.

“I know this hurts, but...but when you get back, meet me at the top of the Chateau, okay?”

“Viv—“

 _“Promise me,”_ she says firmly.

Even though you have no idea what she’s saying, you promise anyway. “The, the Chateau. Meet you at the top.”

Your vision becomes tinged with black as you try and see who fired the shot that is currently turning your chest cavity into a blood fondue fountain. _Wow_ , that’s certainly an image that you hope you never picture again. You catch sight of another flash of red, but fuck if you can do anything to block this one.

The second shot hits you right between the eyes and everything just stops.

~ ~ ~ ~

And then it starts again.

You open your eyes and immediately release the scream you were holding in for after the bullet. You fumble frantically for your face—no hole, no blood. What the hell just happened, didn’t you get shot? Are. Are you alive now?

You wait a minute for your breathing to slow down—breathing, yeah, just some more proof that you’re alive. Once that’s done, you take a look around. You’re on a bed, or at least something that certainly looks like it’s trying to be a bed. It’s made of hard rock, painted orange, with a yellow sun on it. Your clothing has the same pattern, now that you look at it. You get a distinct feeling that you look _hot_. Radiant, some might even say. Is this upgraded wardrobe a perk that comes with being dead-but-also-not-really-dead?

You push yourself upright and look around. What the hell kind of weird place is this? It looks as if you’re on an island made of a checkerboard. Other similar islands of different sizes pop out of a crystal blue ocean that seems to stretch on forever. You think you can see some non-checkered islands further away, but they’re practically specks in comparison.

“Vivi?” you shout, hands cupped around your mouth. It echoes a bit, but nothing more than that. No reply. You quash the worry festering in your gut and kick off of your bed, floating a few feet in the air and _holy shit you’re flying._

After a few ungodly screeches and more than a few swears, you suspend your personal disbelief and accept the fact that you can now fly. Actually, the more you try it, the more fun it is! You take small steps first, trying to increase your jump range and running speed, then move to straight-up flying. The fear of it quickly fades—kinda like that time you borrowed Nojiko’s motorcycle, it was terrifying and then suddenly it was super enjoyable.

The fun stops when you try to leave your little cluster of checker islands. The moment you reach the shoreline leading towards the other islands, it’s as if you hit an invisible wall, and your flight abilities disappear, leaving you fumbling in midair to scramble back into flight range. You can walk up to about your knees in the water before it rockets down into a practically impassable ocean ravine. Damn. You’re not sure what you should do next. Vivi told you to meet at the Chateau, wherever that is. What you need is a map.

You wander around the coast of your small island for an hour or so until you find something. It looks like a small... What kind of boat is that? A caravel? Well it’s got the same pattern as that weird bed and your clothes, so logic only dictates that finders keepers.

When you board the ship, you can’t help but feel some weird form of nostalgia take over. It smells of tangerines here, which you think is a weird thing for a caravel to smell like, but you don’t mind. There’s a small cabin, which looks to be like a navigator’s by the look of it. There’s maps everywhere, written out in weird symbols you can’t read, but you see what looks like a map of these checker islands and the surrounding ones. Looks like there are eleven non-checker islands total, and they’re pretty big in comparison to what you’ve already explored. Nine of them are arranged in a circle around the checkers, one is way further out of the circle, and one is inside the circle and closer to where you are right now. Seems like you should probably go there first—

You’ve barely thought of your destination when you feel the caravel hum to life around you. You exit the cabin and find that the ship is already moving. Crazy, it’s like this thing can read your mind!

With nothing else to do while you wait, you pop open your sylladex and check your phone. Gross. You’ve been added to a group.

PG: NAMIS IHEERH OH NOF  
PG: NAMI ARE YOUOKAHUY FIF THE MEDEORS HIT YH9IU   
PG: HAVE HYOU SEEN A GHOTS IN PINK AND A HAT AND A TAIL HES SUPPOSED TO NBE MY CHAPERION  
FF: i. what? no, should i have?  
TS: oh hey! Dope, now we’ve got some light in the mix. That’s...  
TS: fortunate.  
TS: ,P  
TS: Wait that’s Zoro’s thing.  
TS: wait why did he use a one-eyed emote *before* he got Hawked?! Holy shit did he like...know?  
PG: i’m confused.  
TS: it’s her aspect, tony.  
TS: hi nami!  
FF: jesus what the fuck is going on?  
FF: holy shit i’m reading some of this stuff, what the hell happened to zoro?  
TS: he's fine, Tony helped me out on that front.  
TS: i’m Tashigi, nice to meet you, and so on.  
TS: more important, though. where are you?  
FF: how is that more important than making sure one of our friends doesn’t die?  
PG: zoro’s fine, i promise. i made sure of it!  
TS: just tell us anything you can about where you are, what it looks like. I’m still not really sure what’s wrong, but its safer if we all meet up and stick together.  
TS: i don’t think Zoro can actually leave here, so it also might be smart for you two to meet up at one of your worlds.  
FF: worlds?  
TS: yeah, the planets you guys all transport your houses to.  
FF: i’m not in my house.  
TS: then are you anywhere near Skaia? It’s a planet that’s got checkerboard patterns all over it?  
FF: there’s a bunch of little islands with that pattern, and other islands. i just left those. no special planet.  
TS: ? Islands? That’s not right.  
TS: wait. You were already on Skaia? How?  
FF: uh.  
FF: idk i just woke up on this bed and then i could fly and then i found a boat and now i’m just sailing around.  
TS: whAT  
TS: YOU DIED ALREADY???!!!  
PG: NAMIS GDEAD?!?!>???  
PG: HOPY SHIT NAMI AFE YOU A GHOST?  
TS: HOW ARE YOU ALREADY GODTIER  
PG: QUICK GET IN A SPRIE TITLL MAKE YOU FEEL EBTTER  
TS: IN MY PLAYERS ABSENCE I AM REQUIRED TO BE ENRAGED THAT HE WASNT FIRST  
FF: STOP FUCKING TYPING IN CAPS ISTFG YOURE BOTH GIVIMG ME A HEADACHE!!!!  
PG: oops, sorry :,<  
TS: sorry...

You pinch the bridge of your nose and look away from the screen for a moment, waiting for your migraine to subside. It’s usually just easier to leave the chat than deal with this shit—but you get a feeling that everyone might really want you to stay this time.

FF: alright, has everyone calmed their tits yet?  
PG: im a reindeer i dont think i usually have those  
TS: yeah and I’m a ghost. Even if I have tits they’re probably spectral.  
FF: gah, noted. sorry i snapped, i’m just...  
FF: today has been rough.  
PG: then come here and i can give you a big fluffy reindeer hug!  
FF: maybe i will ;P  
TS: hold on, there’s still some things we need to figure out. You died, otherwise you wouldn’t have gone godtier. how did you die?  
FF: someone was gonna shoot vivi so i got in the way.  
PG: oh no, are you doing okay?  
FF: still alive last i checked. mentally is a different story, but we’ll burn that bridge when we come to it.  
TS: that’s very admirable, Nami. Makes sense for you to be the Rogue of Light. Stealing your own good fortune and giving it to Vivi is probably what saved her life.  
FF: a rogue?  
TS: like a thief, but nicer.   
FF: wow that explains nothing.  
PG: i’m a sylph of life! i choose to take that to mean i just have a medical degree now.  
PG: and zoro is a knight of doom which i think just means he’s good at ruining things  
TS: not quite, but yeah kind of.  
PG: is vivi okay?  
FF: i think so? i pushed her back into the sprite so she got prototyped. the bullet was supposed to kill her so i wouldn’t prototype her while she was alive, but i think it still worked?  
TS: wait. So the current pre-entry prototypes are a pair of glasses, a hat, and. A fully fucking living person?  
TS: the first two don’t bother me at all, I’m just wondering how the fuck our enemies are supposed to function now that they’ve been integrated with the brain of a political science major. What, are they going to impose tariffs on us?  
FF: if they are i sure as hell won’t be paying them.  
TS: amen.  
TS: no but seriously this is a weird variable and it’s only making it weirder that we haven't seen any enemies on either of our worlds. Besides Zoro’s weird bosses, that is.  
PG: actually i’m okay with this! i don’t wanna fight anyone if i can help it...  
TS: gimme a minute, I’m trying to make something for us.

\- - theSwordsman [TS] sent link  [hawkeyenterprises.org/private/classpects-and-lands](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16752400) \- -

TS: now everyone can keep up to date on what we learn. I’m gonna put your information in, Nami, and me and the sprites can keep it updated.  
PG: ooh, i wanna see!  
PG: wait, tashigi, you have a classpect too?  
TS: yeah. Some other info’s coming to me in bits, one piece at a time. I don’t think any of us besides the players can ever ascend though. It’s just useful to know.  
FF: “land of treats and capitalism”  
FF: hey uh what the fuck is this?  
TS: no clue. I just know that it’s loaded and ready for you to begin your quest   
TS: though i guess your quest doesn’t matter as much since you already went godtier ,/  
FF: i get the distinct feeling I’m going to hate it there.  
TS: this game isn’t kind to its players, so yeah, probably.  
PG: nami are you gonna come to my place?  
FF: not yet. vivi told me to meet her at the “chateau” when i woke up. at the very least i should go back to my apartment first, right? get what i need and check in with vivi before i meet up with you guys.  
TS: makes sense  
TS: oh fuckh  
TS: dgfffffffshdj  
TS: fhbjdh  
PG: tashigi?  
TS: dkkdk  
TS: ,..dop  
TS: fucking finally  
TS: nami go to prospit right the fuck now  
FF: ...well *that’s* an about face. whatever happened to going to meet up with zoro and chopper to stick together?  
TS: *i’m* zoro, i took the phone back  
TS: i don't have time for anyone’s bullshit rn so just listen to me and go  
TS: my dreamself is already dead go and get luffy off of prospit before he’s next  
FF: gah who the hell am i supposed to listen to here, you or your sprite?  
TS: me. stop talking to the ghost, she’s crazy  
TS: she set me up to kill kuina in the first ten minutes i met her  
PG: but she hasn’t been crazy to us at all...  
PG: actually i take that back she’s a little bit sociopathic  
PG: WAIT HOLD ON! how are you feeling?  
TS: hmm well half of me is dead and the other half of me is going to fucking murder that handy bitch as soon as i see her  
FF: uh. zoro, maybe read the earlier conversation and see the aforementioned calming of tits before you decide to murder someone?  
TS: no thanks. My tits are wilding tonight.  
FF: that sure is an image my lesbian eyes can never unsee.  
PG: who are you talking about, zoro?  
TS: who? WHO? OH, well, tony*2 chopper, i am gLAd you asked.  
TS: nico  
TS: motherfucking  
TS: robin in all her allseeing bullshit glory  
TS: i need a sword

~ ~ ~ ~

====> Luffy: Be absolutely bored out of your goddamn gourd.


	17. ====> Luffy: Be absolutely bored out of your goddamn gourd.

KK: sabo  
KK: saaaaaaaabo  
KK: sabraody  
KK: mr sabro  
KK: sabo when are you coming home its been hourrrs  
KK: we were supposed to work on some algebro stuff remember  
KK: get it algeBRO  
KK: like bro time but with math :p  
KK: if i lie and say ace is about to set gramps on fire will you come home sooner  
KK: he might actually set gramps on fire someday you know  
KK: and you wont be at your phone  
KK: bein all responsible and driving my friend home during a stupid storm  
KK: but ace will burn everything  
KK: and it will be yUoUr fault  
KK: (your fault your fault your fault)  
KK: also you suck

\- - necessaryAnarchy [NA] is currently offline  - -

KK: fuck  
KK: hey why does it wait so long to tell me how much youre ignoring me

\- - necessaryAnarchy [NA] is currently offline  - -

KK: i noticed  
KK: m not stupid  
KK: your stupid  
KK: so is your car  
KK: i hope you crash  
KK: after you drop off chopper because he doesnt deserve it  
KK: only you

\- -  kaizokuKing [KK]  closed log to  necessaryAnarchy [NA]  \- -  
\- -  kaizokuKing [KK]  opened log to  scarabInterference [SI]  \- -

KK: yo viv  
KK: vivivivi  
KK: vv   
KK: gah no not you too  
KK: wait it didnt say it yet maybe youre actually bout to respond

\- - scarabInterference [SI]  is currently offline - -

KK: shit  
KK: maybe your girlfriend is better at this  
KK: im gonna ask her if you two did it yet  
KK: whatever “it” is  
KK: probably surfing

\- - flightyFingers [FF] has blocked you - -

KK: noOoOoOoO  
KK: alright nefertari i m back  
KK: your totally loser gf is also ignoring me  
KK: .  
KK: aand so are you  
KK: alright have fun being lame

\- -  kaizokuKing [KK]  closed log to  scarabInterference [SI]  \- -  
\- -  kaizokuKing [KK]  opened log to  pocketGentleman [PG]  \- -

KK: chop hows the weather in my bros shitty car  
KK: he still being lame and a jerk who separates friends at the behest of your scary strife god of a grandma

\- - pocketGentleman [PG]  is currently offline - -

KK: oh daaaaaaaaamn it not you too  
KK: chopper you were supposed to be the good one  
KK: fml practically no ones online what is this  
KK: well i am bored  
KK: lets consult the roloden 

\- -  kaizokuKing [KK]  closed log to  pocketGentleman [PG]  \- -  
\- -  kaizokuKing [KK]  opened log to  glowupJustice [GJ]  \- -

KK: coby   
GJ: Hey, Luffy!! Wow, you never message me first...  
GJ: Gah, this makes me feel bad and I’m so sorry, I know we haven’t talked in a while but I really gotta go!! I’m sorry I’m sorry, we can talk some other time...  
KK: no wait

\- -  glowupJustice [GJ]  closed log to  kaizokuKing [KK]  \- -

KK: everyone sucks today

\- -  kaizokuKing [KK]  opened log to  quixoticsAnonymous [QA]  \- -

QA: HEYA  
QA: FYi YOURE GONNA DiE RUBBER BOY >8P  
KK: wow i momentarily almost forgot how much i hate you

\- -  kaizokuKing [KK]  blocked  quixoticsAnonymous [QA]  \- -  
\- -  hebiHeiress [HH]  opened log to  kaizokuKing [KK]  \- -

HH: Darling Luffy, I heard you’ve made contact with one of our mutual friendss!!!!  
HH: Turn on your location, I jusst want to talk <3

\- -  kaizokuKing [KK]  blocked  hebiHeiress [HH]  \- -  
\- -  kaizokuKing [KK]  opened log to  hawkEye [HE]  \- -

KK: alright whos thi  
KK: oh no  
KK: mr mihawk i am so sorry for bothering you i swear you were just next on the list

\- - hawkEye [HE] is always watching - -

KK: wwhat the fcuk 

\- - you do not have permission to block hawkEye [HE] \- -

KK: WHHHAT THE JFUCK  
KK: SORRY SIR ILL BE LEAVING

\- -  kaizokuKing [KK]  gently closed log to  hawkEye [HE]  \- -  
\- -  kaizokuKing [KK]  opened log to  necessaryAnarchy [NA]  \- -

KK: alright so mistakes were made  
KK: you leave me no choice.

\- -  kaizokuKing [KK]  closed log to  necessaryAnarchy [NA]  \- -  
\- -  kaizokuKing [KK]  opened log to  pyroTechnician [PT]  \- -

KK: sup bro  
PT: sup  
KK: i see your heads still in the oven  
PT: always  
KK: wanna set something on fire  
PT: always  
PT: whatcha got in mind?  
KK: chopper left all this game stuff around the kitchen  
PT: yeah my foots in one of those rn

You look away from your computer and peer under the kitchen table. True to his word, Ace’s foot is wedged into the alchemiter platform, which you didn’t think had a place to get a foot wedged into but damn if he didn’t shove it in there anyway.

KK: fwoosh that motherfucker  
KK: i wanna feel like im in rio de fucking janeiro   
PT: uh wait, in the house?  
PT: you remember dadans apartment right  
KK: relax you wont burn it down this time  
KK: besides im rubber so clearly i cannot be injured  
KK: ill just lie down on it  
PT: nah bro im all for breakin shit but not inside  
PT: what about the old tree  
PT: been dyin to get a real fire started, that baby oughta burn bright enough you can see it from rio  
KK: er  
KK: isnt makino in love with that thing tho  
PT: ain’t her tree   
PT: worst comes to worst, im the big bro so if shanks gets pissed, ill just   
PT: take the heat  
KK: YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA  
PT: YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA  
PT: anyway meet me in the yard in five  
PT: jacket not required 

You check the game one last time to see if Chopper had time to set his up—nothing, damn it—and then close your computer. Ace has already fwooshed out of the kitchen, you can tell because you can hear Gramps screaming at him for using his powers in the house. Hehe, that’s gonna be great when he finds out what you two are up to! You don’t bother to put your sweater on, settling for just your warm hat and pajamas. When Ace says that you don’t need a jacket, realistically it means he’s about to make you feel like you're standing on the sun.

The air outside is brisk and stings your throat when you breathe. It’s definitely a refreshing change of pace, but you still kind of regret going outside a few minutes before your brother. Having nothing better to do, you reluctantly decide to check on the dinner status.

S: hey  
S: me again  
R: Ace, not now. I m driving.  
S: luffy actually  
R: Oops  
R: My mistake, I don't have you in my contacts and you both type the same  
S: s cool i know youre not great at anything dadly  
S: yes that was shade if you were wondering because you actually suck pretty hard at this dad thing  
R: I am busy, son.  
S: riiiight  
S: anyway just wondering about pizza  
S: and its whereabouts to my stomach  
R: Luffy it hurts me to say this but I won’t be bringing pizza.  
R: In fact, I won’t be coming home with anything  
S: unbelievable  
S: when are you coming home then  
S: you bringing *anything*  
R: Realistically no to both  
S: that makes no sense  
R: Neither does your need for pizza at this hour. Shouldn’t you be in bed for school?  
S: im not in school remember  
R: Oh right  
R: I thought you were Ace again my b  
S: yeah it kinda is

 _“OW!”_ you suddenly yelp as a searing hot finger flicks you in the nose. You scamper back and grab some of the snow on the ground, holding it on your nose until the momentary sting subsides.

“You know talking to him doesn’t work,” Ace says dryly. He picks your phone up from where you dropped it and dusts off the snow before handing it back to you.

“Gah, yeah, I _know_ ,” you grumble back, accepting the phone. You stare at the small exchange with Dragon until your face feels like it might explode, and as soon as you hit that point you just delete the entire conversation a little more aggressively than you were planning to.

“What was it this time?”

“Dinner.”

“We’ve got some stuff left in the fridge—“

“Ate it,” you mutter. Figures. Only Dragon can ever make you sad about food.

“And you didn’t share?” Ace chuckles. “Wow, rude. What kinda brother are you?”

“The younger one.”

You forcibly resist saying what you’re thinking— _not the favorite one, apparently._ Getting into a fight with Ace is never a good idea, and especially not after a convo with your dad. Dragon always puts you on edge, mostly because he just... He doesn’t _care_. You’re supposed to be a family, you and Ace and Sabo and your dad and your mom if you knew whatever the hell happened with her. Sure, family can be people you find and love and trust, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that a blood family’s all superficial and stupid. But all your dad cares about is the news station and the reporting everyone there does. Ace and Sabo work for him, so of course he likes them, of course he pays their tuition. But you? Meh, journalism’s not really your thing. If you could choose, you’d wanna do something big and actiony and dangerous and literally everything that your dad couldn’t care less about. You’re still his kid, right? What makes your older brothers so much better than you? Is it because he got to choose them and he's stuck with you? Homestuck, if you will? You don’t get upset much, but when you do, it’s about this kind of stuff, and it drags you down a rabbit hole that always ruins your day.

Ace grabs your elbow and starts to drag you into the yard before you can keep thinking about this too hard. “Bro, you look like you're gonna freeze to death out here. Come on, let’s go burn some shit.”

You have to admit, you can’t stay mad when you’ve got hijinks in the works. Burning that tree is going to be fun as hell.

You and Ace exit into the storm and approach the massive bastard itself, a huge dead willow whose branches hang heavy with the snow. It’s long since been dead, but Makino always seemed so insistent on protecting it.

Welp. Too bad you’re bored.

“Alright.” Ace cracks his neck and stretches his hands out, sending sparks flying. You grin back at him as he says, “So. How we doing this?”

“Hmm.” You look the tree over once and, before you can think too hard about it, whip out a hand and launch yourself to the top and crouch down. The bough bends dangerously beneath you, but you’re way too light for your own good and it balances back out. Fuck, it is _freezing_ up here.

“What the hell, Luffy? Get down!”

“L-light ‘er up!” you stammer back through chattering teeth. “Quick, I don’t wan-na catch a c-c-cold!”

You watch Ace consider the merits of your idea for a good few seconds before he grins back at you. “Alright, bro, brace yourself!”

Ace strides through the snow and places a hand against the main trunk, his entire arm starting to glow a flickering green. Without even changing expression, the flames explode out and melt all the snow in the yard in seconds, then immediately collapse back in to circle around the trunk in radiating colors of gold and crimson. The other boughs begin to catch fire around you, but the one you’re seated on remains untouched. You let out a delighted whoop of laughter as the wave of warmth hits you hard enough to blow your hair around and sends the pigtails of your hat flying behind you.

Your brother clambers up the tree and sits on one of the flaming branches, letting out a complacent sigh. “This was a good idea.”

“Yeah,” you exhale back, only half-listening as the crackling of burning wood fills your ears. This is even warmer than sitting on the heater in your room. Hehe, Sabo would flip his shit if he knew about this. Oh well. That’s what happens when everyone ignores you, Monkey D. Luffy, king of getting everyone’s attention on you, one way or another. Oh, man, how _cool_ would it be to be a king?

You lie back on the branch below you and sigh again, and Ace follows suit. In fact, you’re so warm and fuzzy and content right now, you almost miss the meteor that flashes overhead.

Almost.

You snap upright and screech excitedly. “AAAACEHOLYFUCKLOOK!!!”

“Whoa, that’s awesome,” he mumbles. You look back at him and see that his hat is currently over his eyes. Ass.

“Hey!” You try to reach toward him, and that’s when you see another meteor streaking overhead, even bigger than the last. Then another. More and more keep flying by, but from this angle you can’t see what’s happening as they disappear. Gah, you’re gonna miss it! “Ace, come _oooon_! It’s the meteor shower I told you about! FIRE, remember? You _love_ fire!”

“Man, my _life_ is a meteor shower,” Ace grumbles back at you. You decide not to try and unpack that and instead settle on THE UNSTOPPABLE FORCE METHOD.

You shoot out both hands and grab onto the roof of your house and your brother respectively. Ace screams as you launch yourself over to the roof, dragging him with you. You drop your bro like a sack of coal on the shingles below and perch yourself on top of the chimney, pulling out your phone to capture the...

Whoa.

East Grand City is in flames. The entire skyline looks like Ace went on a rampage—everything radiates a heavy red glow, so bright that even the horizon looks like it’s on fire. The fire only seems to stop a few streets away from your house. You can’t see people from this far, and to your horror, you can’t hear any people either. All you can hear is the distant roaring of fire. 

“Ace,” you say. Your voice sounds weird, and you think Ace notices it because you feel him clamber up behind you. A quiet swear in Portuguese seems to fill the air around you, but it’s quickly swallowed by the crackling of the fire.

Your phone falls from your hands and slides down the roof, falling forgotten to the snow below.

The two of you just stare into the city as another meteor flies across the sky and hits, _hard_ , right into the side of a business building that you both immediately recognize as the broadcast center for Baltigo Station News.

~ ~ ~ ~

R: Hello Luffy. This is your father  
R: Due to the extenuating circumstances concerning my death, and the fact that you’re a minor and your older brothers will soon be joining me in the appropriate afterlife, i have hired you a babysitter.

~ ~ ~ ~

>NR: Babysit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man. Dragon man. He. He's something.


	18. > NR: Babysit.

“...’Babysit’?”

You frown as the word appears in your translations. That...hrm. That can’t be right. “Babysit”? What reason would an ancient artifact in a heretofore untranslated language have to sport the word “babysit”? In ancient times, was babysitting such a historically challenging event that it necessitated encryption and preservation? Maybe you mistranslated something.

The flashlight illuminating you and the artifact lowers, shrouding you in darkness. You sigh quietly. “Mister Deuce, please do try to hold still.”

The little creature fumbles with the flashlight and brings it back up with a hurried apology. After a moment, you smile and summon a hand to adjust his little hat and pat him on the head. You can’t stay mad at him, he’s just too adorable.

Satisfied with the lighting, you turn back to the artifact, but...no, you’ve completely lost your train of thought. You don’t think you’ll be able to translate any further today. Maybe tomorrow, after your exams, you’ll have some time to come back. 

You close your notebook and pull a piece of chalk out of your sylladex, carefully marking the point you’ve reached today. You’ve experimented with different kinds of non-permanent markers on the artifact, but so far, chalk seems to be the only thing that works. Markers and pencils and paint all fail to make a mark. The red chalk seems to work the best for some reason? Oh well. You’re not complaining. 

“Mister Boxcars?”

He grunts something in acknowledgement and gently lowers you and Deuce to the ground. “Make any progress today, lil’ lady?”

“Not much,” you admit. “I got a bit distracted with the content.”

“You’ll get it soon enough!” Deuce chimes in, doing one of his little jigs and sending the flashlight’s rays careening across the walls. You can’t help but giggle at the absurdity of it. 

You stow your items and immediately rush over to the main computer terminal. Professor Edwards’ room is already lit, meaning he must be back from his first day at his new job. You can’t _wait_ to hear how his day went!

You climb up to the computer and see the professor slouched back in his chair, his coat and cane off to the side of his studio. He doesn’t look asleep, per se, but he certainly looks exhausted. You’d almost feel bad about bothering him if you weren’t so excited. You never hear anything interesting around here.

\- -  naiveReality [NR] opened log to  dearlyDeparted [DD]  \- -

NR: Hello, Professor!  
NR: I don’t mean to bother you, but I was really hoping you’d tell me about your day~  
NR: I’d love to hear about your time at the university!  
DD: Yoho! Hello, child! How are you doing today, any interesting discoveries?  
NR: Not particularly. I might have accidentally mistranslated a passage, in fact... It was all starting to turn into gibberish, honestly.  
DD: Well, I suppose you shouldn’t knock it ‘til you try it, no?  
NR: Yes, I suppose.  
NR: Wait, enough about me! You’re dodging my questions, Professor. I want to know how work was~  
DD: It was good!  
NR: Details? I’ve been waiting all day, Professor!   
DD: ...It was fine, Miss Nico, I really don’t know what the big deal is? I had a nice day at a nice job.  
NR: How was Mister Calico?  
NR: Did you and him enjoy your first day at work together? :)  
NR: Did you.  
NR: kiss?  
DD: YOHOHOHOHOHO  
DD: YOU’RE ASKING AN AWFUL LOT OF ADULT QUESTIONS FOR A NINE YEAR OLD MISS NICO SHOULD I BE CONCERNED  
NR: Eight, actually. And you’re not answering any of them!  
NR: Did you go to lunch? Do you have a corner office together? Have you proposed yet? Are you in the adopting business? I’m available if you’re ever interested.  
NR: And you should always be concerned, always, about everything. Cynicism saves lives, Professor. Mom told me that and she saved many lives so it must be true.  
DD: Young lady, I am a music teacher who was hired only yesterday, for the sole purpose of pacifying college students who need to fulfill their liberal art requirements. I do not have a corner office. I did not have time for lunch because I had multiple lectures back to back and three hundred brain dead philosophy majors asking me about extra credit and the powerhouse of the cell. Extra credit, on the first day, can you believe it? Goodness, these greedy children. I did get a good laugh out of the powerhouse of the cell jokes, though I must admit, they needed some explaining. Frankly I’ve derailed myself and no longer know what I’m trying to argue, but I do know this—I’ve only known Yorki for a few days, and it’s FAR too soon to worry about kissing, much less anything matrimony related!  
NR: Professor, you are aware that I can see the blood rushing to your face right now, yes?~

You watch as the professor violently spins his chair so he’s facing away from your monitor—but he can’t fool you with that, you can practically see the steam bursting from his ears. You’re too young to really _get_ love, but you imagine that the professor is feeling the full brunt of its force.

DD: You are a very smart girl.  
NR: Thank you! I’ve certainly tried~  
DD: Tell me, how do you fare in school, with such an intelligent mind? I bet the rude kids in class all have a bone to pick with you, yohohoho...  
NR: I actually teach myself.  
DD: Really? Fascinating!!  
NR: With a bit of assistance from my f

You hear a loud clanging sound behind you and immediately stop typing. Deuce and Boxcars have turned towards the sound too. You listen closely, not really too concerned. Clover knows you like to do your research stuff in here, he’s probably just checking on you.

...Only this time, Clover doesn’t call out for you, and the silence carries until you start to worry. 

Boxcars tells you to hide, but you wave him away, and the two creatures slink off into the shadows to join their cohorts. You slip down off the computer as quietly as you can and unplug the console, shrouding the entire room in darkness. It’s too quiet now, without the humming of machinery. You don’t like how loud your breathing sounds here.

Now that you’re looking, you can see light streaming in from the entrance. You pull off your slippers and walk silently towards the exit of the cavern, and that’s when you hear it.

“—don’t do this, please, she’s just a _child—“_

“Quiet,” another voice says sharply. The first one is Clover, definitely, but you don’t know the second. He sounds shady.

You stay back as two men emerge from the darkness near the doorway to the cavern. The one you don’t recognize has long hair slicked back into a messy bun and wears a simple dress shirt and slacks, but he doesn’t look particularly scary otherwise. Rather, it’s Clover’s body that he’s dragging beside him that makes you terrified.

“Please, Lucci,” Clover begs, and you can just barely see that the old man is crying. “I’ll do anything you want, _anything,_ just leave her alone!”

The man—Lucci—drops Clover roughly on the ground and fiddles with something in his hands. “I think you know full well that I can’t do that, Professor. In fact, I would expect you to understand more than anyone.”

“She doesn’t know what she’s doing! She’s just a curious _child_.”

“Since when has that explanation ever held up in court, Professor?”

“Lucci, I _beg_ your people to reconsider the situation. It’s twenty years until the dawn, and she’s been making real progress, we still have time—“

**_BANG._ **

You stifle a shocked scream as Clover’s body falls to the ground, lifeless.

“No,” Lucci says simply, lowering the pistol back to his side. “ _We_ don’t.”

Then he turns towards the darkness—toward _you._

You step back instinctively, feeling tears come to your eyes. Clover had been there for you all your life. When your entire town shunned you after your mother died, he and his colleagues were the only ones to treat you like a real person. And now he’s dead.

Why does this always happen to everyone you love?

Lucci straightens up and puts his free hand in his pocket. “I know you’re there, Nico Robin,” he says, loudly but calmly. “I know a lot about you. ‘NaiveReality’ on Denden, eight years old, ate the Flower-Flower fruit. I know that you’ve been working to translate the Poneglyph, and that you’ve made some headway in your endeavors. I know that I just shot the last connection you had to this world right through his heart, which, ironically, is what I plan to do to you. Now, you can come out and make both our lives easier, or you can continue to hide and I will find you myself. The choice is yours.”

You don’t respond, too terrified to say a word. After a moment, Lucci scoffs. “As I suspected. I suppose this version of you hasn’t yet learned which battles are meant to be forfeited.”

Slowly, Lucci pulls the door of the cavern shut, surrounding you both in shadow.

You fumble backwards for a few steps, then bolt back towards the computer as fast as your little feet can carry you. As you do, you drop your shoes on the ground with a clatter, and immediately you can hear Lucci following after. He’s fast, scary fast. 

Your shoulder slams into the computer desk and you shout in pain, but you use a whip of hands to lift yourself up to the top of the monitor. Lucci stops just below you, the feral glint in his eyes the only part of him you can see. One second you’re above him and looking down and the next, you feel a clawed hand grabbing at your neck and you’re roughly dragged off the monitor and slammed into the ground. Your scream chokes and dies in your throat. 

Lucci pulls the trigger on his pistol and you don’t think, you just _do_ , you sprout new hands from his wrist and cover the barrel of the gun with both of them and those two false hands get blown into oblivion. You instinctively try and cry out, but Lucci’s still got a hold on you and you can barely make a sound. 

“I’ve killed fifty-five archaeologists today,” Lucci says matter-of-factly, effortlessly constricting your windpipe. “If you think you’ll stop me from making that number fifty-six, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“N-no,” you manage to wheeze out through your tears. “You... _killed_ everyone?”

“Only those who posed a threat.” He smirks, showing a glimpse of fangs, and tightens his grip even further, lifting you off the ground. You yelp and try to pry his hand open, to no avail. “Which, in this case, was everyone. So yes.”

“They did-didn’t do anything wrong!”

“They taught _you_ , didn’t they?”

“But _I—I_ didn’t do anything wrong either!”

“And you never will,” he replies.

Your eyes widen in horror. “Please, sir, I d-don’t want to die...” Even as you say it, you can feel yourself struggling to stay conscious. The darkness closes in around you, constricting, an inescapable void.

You don’t want to die. You don’t want to die. You’re not sure what exactly you’d live for if you were to live, but you don’t want to die.

You _really_ don’t want to die.

You want to live. And somehow, you know that you have to.

That’s about when Lucci’s gun appears in your hands.

Lucci’s smirk disappears, giving way to a genuinely startled expression. You imagine your face looks the same, since after all, you don’t remember picking it up.

You take one look up at Lucci and see that your gun—not his anymore—is practically point blank to his chest. This man killed everyone you love, and he’ll kill you too.

You can’t die if your killer dies first.

**_BANG._ **

Lucci releases you and collapses backwards, blood spilling onto the floor beneath you. You land on your hands and knees in the puddle and quickly stumble upright, giving yourself barely enough time to catch your breath. You run to his side with your phone flashlight, just far enough out of reach, but close enough to see the damage you inflicted. You shot him through his left lung, looks like. That certainly explains the choking. Even if there were some way to save him, you certainly wouldn’t try it.

“Why did you try to kill me?” you ask him. Your voice sounds far steadier than you feel. You just shot a man, didn’t you? It’s normal to feel bad about that, right? Well, you suppose at least the Midnight Crew ought to be proud of you. You can practically hear the _‘Atta girl’_ s.

In response, Lucci glares weakly in your direction. “You...you’ve _played_ yourself, Nico Robin... You. You _need_ me.” He mumbles something else, but you can’t really hear it.

He coughs violently once more, then goes still.

Honestly, the more you think about it, the less remorse you feel. The only unsettling thing about his death is his last words. Why would you need the man you just murdered?

You sit there, thinking for a few minutes. What now? Everyone is dead, according to and including Lucci. And if you’re to believe him, you needed Lucci, too. You have no money. No property outside of this room. A dwindling circle of friends. And you have a timer that expires in twenty years. What do you do with that?

Once you’ve collected your thoughts a bit more and messaged the crew about what just happened, you decide to do some corpse inspection. Lucci is very _very_ dead, so your fear of him is nonexistent at this point. You browse through his sylladex and find it lacking. All you find is a few hundred dollars, a small ball of yarn, and a CD.

You take all of it, but the CD you keep out. It doesn’t have any details on it, save for a few words written in sharpie on the top.

_S.L.I.N.E. pre-vis. Destroy after eliminating NR._

Ominous. You’re not sure what it is, but hey. You have a computer, don’t you?

As you boot it up and begin installing whatever is on the disc, you notice that Brook is frantically pacing across his room, phone in hands. The Midnight Crew comes back through whatever secret doorway they use and immediately starts cleaning up the mess. You ignore Droog and his worried fussing over you as you try to reassure Brook.

DD: Hello?  
DD: Miss Nico, are you still here?  
DD: It says you haven’t logged off...  
DD: Robin, are you okay?  
DD: Do I need to call someone?  
DD: Message back if you need help and I’ll come to you as fast as my legs can humanly carry me, yoho!  
DD: Oh goodness, I’ve never been so worried before in my life, Robin. Are you okay? I know you don’t have much in the way of company but now I’m worried about the company you DO keep.  
DD: I just called Yorki for advice, he knows some people in Boston.  
NR: No, Professor, that’s alright!   
DD: ROBIN!!! I WAS SO WORRIED  
NR: I’m fine, a bit shaken, but I’m alright and with friends. I’m safe, please don’t send anyone!  
DD: Are you okay? What happened??  
NR: Nothing serious.  
DD: NOTHING SERIOUS MY BONY BUTT YOUNG LADY TELL ME THE TRUTH THIS INSTANT  
NR: I’m sorry, Professor, but I don’t really want to talk about it right now. I have to do something important, I promise I will talk to you later!

You leave before he gets a chance to say anything. It looks like whatever was on the disc finished downloading. It’s an executable game file called SLINE. You log in with your Denden credentials and watch as it opens a window, asking you to choose whether you want to play a client or server version.

You try to choose _CLIENT_ , but it doesn’t let you click it. You can’t click _SERVER_ either. You mouse over the entire page until you eventually realize that the word “ _OR_ ” is the only thing you can click.

So you do.

Whatever this game is, it begins loading. You sit at the computer and watch as your own screen begins flashing with hundreds of different colors and designs, and the game slowly chugs through another loading screen.

Time to find out exactly what Lucci was so afraid of.

~

====> Brook: Level up!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [@SIUNTIST IM SCREAMING IM LOVE IT](http://donotstarve.tumblr.com/post/181302730676/some-edits-for-the-one-piecehomestuck-fic-come)
> 
>  
> 
> Also, follow me on twitter @morioriohno for some more art I did for this!


	19. ====> Brook: Level up!

“Are you sure this is how it wo—“

“ _Yes._ ” Droog cuts you off before you can say anything else, grabbing your shoulders and roughly swiveling your chair back to your laptop. “Yes, fuck, I’m a _million_ percent sure that that’s how you install the damn game!” 

“Alright, I’m _sorry!”_ you yelp back at him. As you turn your attention to the screen, you see your mouse lingering over a small icon that looks like a skull and bones. Is that the application? Gosh, you used to be so good with these things. No wonder your students hate when you grade their work, none of this stuff makes sense anymore. But oh, how it used to make so much sense. In fact, in your heyday, you were known amongst your merry band of hooligans as _quite_ the gamer. Nowadays, well, it goes in one ear and right out the other. Wait, you don’t read with your _ears,_ you doofus, you read with your eyes, so it goes in one _eye_ and out the other. Oh, but that sounds more painful, you’re going to stick with the first choice of words since, after all, you have to focus eventually. 

Against your better judgement, you click the icon and load up the game. It’s asking you to type something in. Droog is going to hate you for taking this long, but oh well, he’s the one who broke into young Sanji’s apartment and brought you into this mess in the first place. “Er, sorry, but what am I supposed to type here?”

“The cook’s Denden handle.”

You frown. “The...cook?”

“...What are you, dense? We went over this half a damn hour ago, that brat from the restaurant.”

“Oh. Right,” you lie. Oof, you forgot something important again. You remind yourself not to forget it next time and type Sanji’s handle into the game. Droog had assured you that everything would work on Sanji’s side, so for the moment, you just have to sit and wait for it to work. Though, as far as you know, Sanji’s a computer science student at the university? So why isn’t he “the computer guy” or something like that?

A splashing sound behind you grabs your attention, and you turn to see Deuce sticking his grubby little hand in your fishtank. You scream and dive for him, lifting him off the table and back down to the ground before he can do any more damage. “HEY! HANDS OFF THE TANK!”

You immediately press your face up against the tank to see if—oh, thank _goodness._

You breathe a sigh of relief as your goldfish surfaces, releasing a stream of bubbles as a way of greeting. You drop a few goldfish flakes in for him and watch as he attempts to gobble them up. Of course, he’s way too small for the amount of food he wants to shove in his mouth, so he just winds up swimming in circles with a flake in his tiny little jaw’s inescapable clutches. He looks unharmed, thank the heavens.

Deuce is already climbing back up to the tank, trying to stick his hand in again. You quickly grab him by the torso and drag him back across the table. “NO! No, Laboon is _not_ for touching!” 

“But I wanna hold him,” Deuce mumbles, still not withdrawing his hand. 

“Deuce, leave the poor bastard alone,” Droog mutters, sitting down on your bed and expertly snapping open a magazine that you could have _sworn_ was under Sanji’s bed at the restaurant. “The fish, too.”

Deuce mumbles something under his breath and waddles away from Laboon’s tank to sulk in the corner of your bedroom. You give him a warning glare for a moment before returning your attention to the computer. It seems the connection to Sanji has gone through, and the game has loaded up a black window with a single prompt: _ENTER VOYAGE? Y / N_

You press Y and the view in the window changes to...is—is that _Sanji?_ Is that his room? How is he still asleep, you were just talking to him on the way back here, it wasn’t that long of a walk. And why is he on the floor instead? Did he fall over? Goodness, is this what it’s like for Robin to watch you on her screen?

Well, the game seems to be working. Now what? 

When an answer doesn’t come to you, you turn to Droog, well aware of the scowl he sends back your way. “Sooooo...what now?”

“...Do I _seriously_ have to give you a walkthrough for this?”

~ ~ ~ ~

Yes. Yes, he does. You and Droog spend what is probably the most painful twenty minutes of his life deploying all the items and machinery that Sanji will need in order to play the game. You _swear_ you follow every instruction he gives you, but apparently, he would swear otherwise. And he swears loudly.  _Very_ loudly. Thank goodness you and Yorki don’t have kids, today would be such a terrible influence on them.

When you get to dealing with the sprite, you decide to put his cellphone into the sprite. Makes sense, right? A computer to deal with guiding him. At least it makes sense to you, Droog doesn’t seem to agree. Well, that’s alright. After Droog has finished throwing a fit over your technological inadequacy, you finally reach the end of your duties, and, if all goes well, you should have Sanji’s item somewhere on the screen...

Right?

Surely it’s there, your eyes can’t be _that_ terrible. You scan the room once, twice. Again, just to be sure.

Yeah, it’s not there.

“Um. Droog, my dear frienemesis. Isn’t there supposed to be an item after I put the card in the thing maker?”

“Yeah. Why?”

You lean out of the way so he can see your screen. “It’s not there.”

“What do you _mean_ , ‘it’s not there’? It should be on the platform. Did you move it?”

“Uh, nope. No, I did not—Hey!”

“Outta the way.” Droog shoves your hand aside and navigates your viewport with far better precision and speed than you could, looking for the object—when, without warning, the screen goes black. “—What the hell, what did you _do_?”

“I didn’t do _anything_!?”

Your echeladder begs to differ—you’ve no sooner said that you’re innocent when your rank skyrockets up from SHANTY CANTOR, bypassing vaunted levels like DOWNTOWN SARAJEVO, BEATS OF STEEL,  and HUMERUS HYDROPHOBE, before finally settling on the _especially_ vaunted rank of JOKEBOX HERO.

You squeal in delight, ignoring the dirty look the sound gets you from Droog. You haven’t leveled up in, what, twenty years? And all of these ranks, gosh, so quickly!? You truly _do_ feel like a jokebox hero. 

“You...leveled up from doing _nothin’_?”

“I...well, I suppose so, yohohoho!” You can hardly keep your enthusiasm at bay. Droog looks at you for a moment, seems to question his life choices, then pulls out his phone. His skepticism seems founded, you have to admit. After all, if you leveled up that much, you must have done something. Maybe you just turned out the lights in Sanji’s room so he could have a nice undisturbed nap? Yes, that certainly seems logical. You’re sure a young man needs his privacy now and then.

Your inner monologue is interrupted by Droog hurling the phone across your bedroom, where it hits one of your framed pictures on the wall and knocks it loose. “Goodness, what was that for?”

“Robin ain’t picking up,” he grumbles back. “Damn kid.”

You hum back noncommittally—not that you don’t care about Robin! Oh, you care very much for her. You’ve known her since she was barely a child. But Droog’s reference to her has you wondering about some questions Robin has always been dodgy on—specifically, her upbringing. You’ve been worried about her for as long as you can remember, which is roughly twenty-two years, since, realistically, it wouldn’t make sense to worry about her before you met her. But you’ve never gotten a straight answer about the things you _do_ worry about.

These worries in mind, you casually scoot your chair over to Droog, who watches you coming with something akin to dread. “So, uh, not to change the subject or anything, buuuuuut about Miss Robin. You seem to really care about her, huh?”

“Yep! We _love_  Robin!” Deuce chimes in from his corner, muffled.

Droog glares at him, probably thinking you won’t notice, then crosses his arms and looks back at you. “From what she says, you seem to like her too.”

“Well, why wouldn’t I?” you ask, practically gushing. “She’s remarkably intelligent, a respectable businesswoman, and _beyond_ devoted to her research. In my opinion, the entire human species could benefit from her and her company.”

“You already do.”

“What does that mean—“ Your brain plays catchup to the last thing Droog said— “Wait, did you say Robin talks about me?!”

“Yeah. She won’t shut up about ‘the Professor’, ‘the Professor’,” Droog says mockingly, putting up air quotes. “Made you sound way more interestin’ than you actually are. If she wasn’t who she was, I wouldn’t put up with any of that shit, but...” He trails off.

“But what?”

He glares at you as way of answer. He doesn’t seem to like you.

“Why do you care about her so much?”

Droog shrugs, at the same time as Deuce says brightly, “She’s a member!”

“A member of...what?”

“Of the Midnight Cr _emrphbnrnm—“_

You watch as Droog picks Deuce up roughly by his coat collar and shoves him in one of your closets. Rude, he could have at least asked before he went through your personal stuff. Or, in this case, added Deuce _to_ your personal stuff. What did he say? The “Midnight Cremrphbnrnm”? Is that hyphenated or no?

Deuce keeps talking from the closet, but it’s blocked out by Droog as he stares you down. “Look, musician. We ain’t got time to deal with you and your nosy questions about stuff that was never your business in the first place. If we don’t hear back from Robin quick, then we gotta assume she’s in some deep shit and needs help, on the fuckin’ double. You got that?”

You’re not entirely willing to drop this, but if Robin’s in danger, you think you can put your curiosity aside and focus on helping. After a moment, you hang your head, the drama of the action sending your chair swiveling partway back to your desk. Maybe you’ll be able to reach Robin. “You’re right. Forgive me for asking so many nosy questions, yohohoho! I just simply worry about Robin.”

He goes to lean against the closet door, pinning Deuce in. “If you’re so worried, _you_ find her.”

“Ah, well, if you insist.” You’ve already completed the full rotation back to your computer and pulled up Denden on your laptop. Robin almost never ignores you, you’d be awfully upset if she started now. Behind you, you hear Deuce try to escape from the closet—haha, good joke—but otherwise you pay him no heed.

\- -  dearlyDeparted [DD]  opened alliance  “$UP3R ADULT PLACE *jazz hands*”  \- -

DD: @naiveReality are you here? The two very strange men you sent to help me set up Sanji’s game are looking for you. One of them is harassing my fish and the other is quite sassy but also just rude.  
DD: I’m trying to understand what your connection to them is, but so far, I can’t quite get through Droog’s thick skull to unlock the secrets within.  
DD: @naiveReality  
DD: Am i doing this right? This is how you tag someone in a message, right?  
CC: asdghfadsf yeah brook you got it  
DD: Ah, Franklin! How are you doing? I feel as if we haven’t spoken in ages, yohohoho!  
CC: w0w that’s not even close to my name, but you’re an old timer so you get a pass! ;P  
DD: Oops, forgive me! Hm. It was Cutty Flam, right?  
CC: well, yeah, but usually i just go by franky.  
DD: Right, I knew it! So sorry, Franky.  
CC: no problemo old timer!  
CC: man, this is crazy, i feel like we haven’t spoken in...what, like, over a decade? i saw your messages in luffy’s alliance but didn’t get a chance to reply before like half the gang checked out. and the other one, i just joined in to make fun of sanji   
CC: how does this alliance even work anymore? wouldn’t we have lost it in all the denden updates since then??  
DD: Perhaps I’m not the perfect person to give you an answer to that question, yoho...  
CC: ah, true, true.  
CC: how are ya doin, man? you all healed up now?  
CC: how’s your head?  
DD: Fine, thank you! As fine as it’ll ever be, so I’ve been told.  
CC: oof, you sure?  
DD: Sadly yes. I almost wish my devil fruit had kicked in instead, it might have saved me a lot of trouble. And paperwork! Yohohoho~  
CC: hey man, don’t be like that. you made it out alright and that’s what important, yeah?  
DD: I suppose so!  
DD: Yohoho! My traumatic brain injury is certainly very funny! Yohoho  
CC: damn i brought a real bummer into this convo man, my bad...  
CC: let’s talk about somethin else  
CC: done anythin interestin lately?

You then proceed to have a very interesting (and confidential) conversation with Franky. Hey! That’s none of your business, no peeking! Whatever, maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you in on the fun next chapter. But regardless, the two of you chat for far longer than you had anticipated, and you almost forget what you were even in this convo for in the first place until Franky reminds you.

DD: OH SHIT FUCK OOPSIEDOODLES  
CC: ???  
DD: Have you heard from Robin!? Me and a few strange creaturemen are having no luck finding her, @naiveReality @naiveReality @naiveReality answer please!   
CC: no, i ain’t seen anythin of her since you and her left luffy’s alliance  
CC: why do you two always come to me when you’re lookin for each other  
DD: Oh no. Oh, I’m very worried. And I’ve wasted so much time talking to you!! Oh, gosh, I’m such an old fool.  
CC: you’re not a fool, man, you’re a damn professor at a big shot uni! and what are you, like, sixty?  
DD: Fifty-five  
CC: dude. you are NOT old. okay maybe you’re a little old, like just a bit, but you’re gucci my man  
CC: also, hey, rude. talkin to yours truly is NEVER a waste of time ;P  
DD: I know, I know, I’m just frustrated. I know I leveled up today, but it came from doing absolutely nothing of consequence, I’m sure of it! So maybe I’m just fucking everything up!  
CC: how many times have i gotta say dude before you listen  
CC: look i’m just sittin in my truck doin nothin, i’ll head back to the house and see if i can find where she went   
DD: Oh, that means so much to me, Franky! You’re putting this weary heart at ease.  
CC: hey, no problemo my amigo  
CC: ooh  
DD: What?? Is it Robin??  
CC: no i’m just parked at the dump by the beach and i saw a cute gal by the water  
CC: uh  
CC: wait hold on  
CC: hey brook been neat chattin witcha ttyl bb  
DD: Wait!  
DD: Franky are you there?  
DD: @cocacolaCollaborator  
DD: ...Darnit.  
DD: Why are kids these days so curious about investigating things that aren’t on their phones? I’ll never understand.

Another splashing sound from behind you prompts you to groan in frustration and swivel away from your computer. “Please, friends, the fish is not fo—“

You stop mid-sentence and your jaw drops as you take in the sight of Deuce holding Laboon’s fishbowl roughly three feet off the table. Droog is still leaned against the closet door to keep Deuce in, but apparently he’s just as shocked as you.

“Mister Deuce,” you say, falsely calm as you stand and summon your CONCEALED CANE BLADE from your sylladex. Laboon is far too precious for you to let anything happen to him. He was a gift from your husband last year, on your tenth anniversary. You can easily say you’d kill for him, and Deuce is no exception. “I love guests. I really do. But please put my fish _and_ his bowl back on the table before I resort to murder.”

Droog glances at you, almost impressed—but Deuce’s expression remains nonplussed and enthusiastic. “He’ll be fine, I’m just changing his bowl like Slick told me to!”

“Slick...?” You look down at Deuce’s feet and see, like he said, another fishbowl. Except this one, while identical to Laboon’s, is made of a strange translucent material that’s glowing a deep blue so dark it’s practically black. That looks like the same kind of thing Sanji’s sprite was made of, right? You’re not sure what’s really going on here, but it’s definitely concerning, and that bowl does _not_ look sanitary. 

“Oh, Slick’s just another one of our friends,” Deuce babbles on, tipping the bowl over so some of Laboon’s water goes into the new tank. “He’s really mean sometimes, but he’s nicer in this universe! I guess we all got lucky. Hey, how much water does a whale need to breathe?”

“Whales are mammals,” Droog says.

“What’s that?”

“ _Deuce_ ,” you say, attempting to get his attention, and that’s when he upends the fishtank.

It feels as though it happens in slow motion—the water sloshing over the desk and the glowy bowl, the panicked bubbling of Laboon as he gets sucked into the open, your heroic dive towards your fishy friend as he slips through your bony fingers—and then a bright light flashes and Deuce and Droog are gone and you’re somewhere else.

You sit where you fell for a minute, processing the fact that there is a glowing black fishbowl in your hands and in that bowl is a small...well, it looks like a small baby whale. Not _just_  a baby whale. A very, _very_ small one, about the size of your goldfish. And it’s definitely looking at you. 

“Er...hello, little one,” you say, feeling the warmth seep into your voice regardless of your confusion. The little guy perks up and swims to the surface of the bowl. He’s a brilliant shade of deep blue, beautiful even though he’s so small. “What on Earth are you doing in Laboon’s tank?”

When you say the name, he spins around a little and flicks his tail, sending a splash your way and pulling a giggle from you. “Oh, stop that, you! You didn’t answer my question! Though, I suppose, you are a whale, you probably can’t talk—“ The connection snaps into place— “OH MY SWEET GOODNESS ARE YOU LABOON?!”

In response, Laboon makes a playful chirping sound that absolutely melts your heart in an instant. Oh, you love this boy. You love him very much. This is definitely the most incredible fish upgrade you could ever have achieved—oh, gosh, it’s really annoying you, you thought you could ignore it but you were very wrong. You pull out your phone and are surprised to see over a hundred notifications for a new alliance that you don’t ever recall being in. You don’t bother to read all of it, instead reading the last few posts, which have been flagged for everyone to see.

\- -  flightyFingers [FF]  has formed alliance  “don’t let my girlfriend murder you please”  \- -

FF: urgent message!!!  
FF: do not do anything luck based for the next ten minutes, you *will* be fucked  
FF: this is the only warning you get, don’t blame me if you get rekt 

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t confused.

DD: Miss Nami, yes? Pardon me, but I don’t understand what’s going on here.  
PG: BROOKS HERER I TODL TU IT WORKED  
CC: HELL YEAH FUCKIN SUPERB YOU FUNKY LITTLE DUDE  
TS: fucking fINAlly  
MS: At least we’ve got our bard now! All we’re missing is the heir and we’ve got the whole party  
TS: shut the fuck up i told you to shut the fuck up like three million times you bitch  
MS: wow. Sexist much?  
TS: I’m going to kill you.  
MS: you’re lost without me, prick!  
FF: shut the fuck up both of you!  
TS: NO  
MS: NO  
OD: I’m more than a bit busy but glad to have you aboard, buddy!  
CC: oh sweet jezus christmas old timer we’ve been worryin our asses off over here  
EG: YOU ABSOLUTE ASSWIPE  
OD: oh fuck gotta go—>  
EG: Brook I’m going to strangle you the second I see you.  
EG: You couldn’t just fucking give me the item, you HAD to email it to me?! And my computer was fucked up cuz of the mosshead so I thought the phone would work but NOOOOOO, you HAD to sprite my phone!  
DD: ...Pardon?  
TS: Hey asshole I fucking died for you  
TS: smh you could at least be grateful  
EG: I DONT REMEMBER ASKING FOR A WALKING GRASSY FIELD’S INPUT HERE DICKWAD  
EG: Brook you’re just lucky my sister came and saved my ass! Fuck I hope you get punched in the teeth.  
DD: It appears I’ve missed a lot? Perhaps? I’m not entirely sure.  
PG: brook i brought you into the game three days ago!  
PG: we didn’t know what happened to you so we assumed the worst but turns out the connection was just not all that great until franky hopped in!  
CC: tbh i think we’ve fucked up like everythin at this point so i wouldn’t have been surprised if this’d fucked up too  
DD: That long? So then where have I been?!  
CC: who knows? but the important thing is that you’re here now  
CC: can you try and figure out what your land is like, geography and stuff? maybe nami can come get you and meet up with those of us who’re on lofam rn  
FF: haha you’re funny franky! i’m up to my ass in pastry chefs and i’m using everything i can get just so pudding and baccarat don’t eviscerate me  
FF: and yes i am replying while fighting, it’s cuz i’m such a badass oh fuck that’s a gun that’s a gun  
FF: one of the other godtiers can get him, just don’t do anything stupid while i’m draining luck  
OD: Hey, I’m busy too! Remember Lucci? I’m still dealing with —>that<— right now!  
PG: and tashigi and i are still working on cleaning up this home base, i can’t leave either!  
DD: Well, then, I can at least try and find out where I am, right?  
OD: Yup! And if I get a clear shot, I may be able to get you in a bit!  
FF: good luck  
OD: I’m a great shot, Nami, your luck snatching has nothing to do with it!  
FF: mhm  
CC: well so far that’s the best plan  
CC: brook let us know when you find out  
DD: Will do!  


You put your phone back in your pocket and look down at Laboon. “Well, my friend, it seems we’re going on a little adventure. I can’t leave you here, so from here on out, we’re a team. Got it?” 

He makes a little chirp again, which you decide to take as agreement. You should probably look around now. You’re in your room, so you adjust your grip on Laboon’s tank and step into the living room. Nothing out of the ordinary here, just musical instruments strewn about the place. You should probably clean before Yorki gets home. It’s eerily silent without him.

Outside the window, you notice a peculiar landscape that you don’t recognize. Skyscrapers, wrapped in thick foggy clouds, expand up into an oddly disorganized cityscape. You hear nothing but yourself and the quiet sloshing of Laboon in your hands.

As you head out onto your porch, you’re very startled to see that your driveway stops a few yards out from the front door. Beyond it looks to be an expansive drop into...you think it might be an ocean of some sort? It’s hard to tell since you can’t hear the waves. You’re used to hearing the waves. Gosh, this silence could drive a man mad! Specifically, you. Hopefully you won’t be stuck here too long.

A few seconds pass and you notice something you’d missed before. Far in the distance, you think you can make out some words, but you can’t tell what they say. In a burst of brilliance on your part, you lift Laboon’s tank and use it as a warped sort of magnifying glass. It’s not incredibly effective what with the baby whale in the way, but you can sort of read it now.

LAND OF SKIES AND SILENCE

That sounds awfully lonely. 

A glint of bright red light flashes through the water, making you flinch away for a moment. “What on Earth?”

You look back through and see that the light has burst through the words, scattering them to the wind in fragments, and it’s growing much larger every se—

A wall of force and light slams into you and the fishbowl head on, shattering it and sending Laboon plummeting to the water below before you can do anything. Your head throbs with the impact and the world around you shifts and spins, until suddenly it stops and the world is no longer the same. 

Noise fills the air now, music and laughter and chatter of people. The city around you is full of life, people running across winding sky roads that you don’t remember seeing before. 

You spin around to look at your—your house is gone. You’re on the roof of one of these skyscrapers, though you don’t remember climbing one? You should update the group.

...Except, when you open your phone, it’s completely blank. Not a single notification, no apps, no features past the lock screen. Only when you go back to the lock screen do you notice the date.

4/13/1969

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

====> Franky: Spill the tea. 


	20. ====> Franky: Spill the tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for a loreboi

CC: let’s talk about somethin else  
CC: done anythin interestin lately?  
DD: Oh! Funny you should mention it, I leveled up on my dusty old echeladder! You are currently communicating with a bone-a-fide JOKEBOX HERO!  
CC: !!!@w*0*w@!!!  
CC: i’m so damn proud of ya man :’’’’’’’’)  
CC: actual literal tears comin out the tearducts big bro you’re my hero  
CC: what’d ya do???  
DD: Well, I connected to Sanji’s game as requested, and I flawlessly executed the tutorial program in order to get him into the game—except for some reason, nothing appeared when I started building things using the thing builder! So I asked Droog why it wasn’t working and then he blamed me for it not working and then my game window just closed and I leveled up about a dozen ranks.  
CC: .  
CC: WoW.  
DD: Maybe I broke something?  
CC: nah the algorithms ddm put in place work. fuck if i know how but they know when important shit gets done. they even autocapitalize it’s wack  
DD: So then by adding Sanji to the game, I did something important?   
CC: prolly  
DD: Do the echeladders even really mean anything? Do they have any consequence?  
CC: nah, it’s just nice to have somethin recordin your personal growth, i guess.  
CC: damn though, man, you’re movin up in the world!  
CC: the one time my echeladder went up, i’d just finished m3rry, and i went up like fifteen ranks for it. but before and after it, nothin. sometimes i think i’m doomed to forever stay a HYDROFOIL HANDYMAN.  
CC: . hm.  
CC: ok since we’re talkin echeladders and this is the adults only chat, imma tell you a secret or two, brook. you game to keep em?  
DD: Oh! Well, I’ve never been much for gossip, but who am I to say no to a good bit of dirt?  
CC: cool  
CC: so i’ve talked to all the kiddos in this group, and got two interestin things outta them concernin the fabled levels system.  
CC: one, zoro maxed out his echeladder. nami mentioned it once then made me promise not to tell, he made it to renegade somethin  
CC: RETROGRADE RENEGADE, that’s the one.  
DD: What?! That’s...incredible, but also quite alarming. How could he have possibly done that at his age?   
CC: you know hawkeye enterprises? the ones who own ddm?  
CC: his dad’s the ceo  
CC: and then today i learned that mihawk is apparently a real aggressive strifer. zoro was already top tier by like twelve or somethin, his sister too  
DD: Pardon my coarse language but holy shit!  
DD: Oh, gosh, I wish I knew the poor boy better, I’d have tried to do something to help him sooner...  
CC: don’t beat yourself up over it, man. the only reason any of us know anythin about this is if he tells us or if nami tells us. and he’s super defensive about it, so if you can, don’t say anythin to him.  
DD: On my word, I won’t breathe these secrets to a single soul!  
CC: well, hold your horses there, old timer, i still got more tea to spill  
CC: it’s actually real satisfyin to say this stuff to someone who doesn’t already know it, gossip usually works its way around by now  
DD: Nonsense, when it comes to knowing what’s hip, I’m thick as Beyoncé. Pour away!  
CC: i  
CC: i choose to ignore your choice of words purely out of the kindness of my heart  
CC: okay, here’s the other thing. out of all of them, only one hasn’t leveled up at all.  
CC: luffy  
CC: seventeen years old and the poor kid’s never even leveled up *once*, he’s still a sad lil’ SWABBIE ELASTIC.  
DD: Really? I would have thought he’d have done something to warrant a level increase or two.  
CC: actually, that’s kinda the drama behind it  
CC: alright this stuff, for real, is on $UP3R lockdown, this stuff is NOT stuff i should be saying  
DD: My lips are thoroughly zipped!  
CC: he told me about this shit once, it was kinda sad cuz i could tell he needed someone to talk to but i’m probably not the best choice for anyone  
CC: basically it’s frustratin for him cuz every time he tries to level up, he gets shut down by someone. usually his dad. and every time he does somethin big, it still goes unrecognized. so he keeps tryin to do bigger and bigger shit every time in hopes of leveling up.  
CC: i actually think that might be why he wants to play this game  
CC: he’s done it before, he dominated this game, pirate warriors zero, and made it so hard to win that the entire server was shut down, and that still didn’t get him anythin  
CC: this time he wants to do somethin grand that’ll go well for him and be, like, validatin or somethin along those lines.  
CC: i’m worried tho, there’s this massive meteor shower goin on in the midwest rn, and it’s also snowin like crazy. luffy stopped textin me back a little while ago and i bet he’s gotten himself into some hot shit.  
DD: Oh dear. Did Luffy tell you all this?  
CC: yep  
DD: I hope this doesn’t come off as rude, but...why did he say all that to you? Specifically, I feel like Luffy isn’t one to talk much about how he feels with anyone. Goodness knows he’s never said anything to me before.  
CC: no worries, old timer. i getcha, he ain’t the talkative type.  
CC: see the one day he told me all that shit, he also let slip that he’d found where his grandpa keeps the vodka. kid probably thought it was just really sour water, poor rubber band. at least, i’d much rather think that, thinkin about him stealin alcohol is depressin  
DD: Yohoho! That must have been quite the conversation!  
CC: honestly lookin back it’s one of the highlights of my life  
CC: okay imagine luffy  
DD: Done!  
CC: now imagine him with like, twice the energy, and twice as talkative but not nearly as clever  
CC: at one point he just started ramblin to me about this article he read about the industrial uses of straw and i’ve never laughed so hard in my life  
DD: asdghfadsf  
CC: i don’t think i’ve ever seen you keysmash before, nicely done, brook, you’re finally gettin hip!  
DD: Thank you! It seemed appropriate, so I copied and pasted what you sent at the beginning of our conversation  
CC: no no that ain’t how you do it, ya gotta just hit random keys and then press send  
DD: Hm. Like this?  
DD: g  
DD: Oh god deciding the next letter is too much pressure  
CC: haha, man, old timer you are an icon of the highest caliber. now that we’ve woken this bad boy up, you me and robin should chat more often  
DD: OH SHIT FUCK OOPSIEDOODLES  
CC: ???  
DD: Have you heard from Robin!? Me and a few strange creaturemen are having no luck finding her, @naiveReality @naiveReality @naiveReality answer please!   
CC: no, i ain’t seen anythin of her since you and her left luffy’s alliance  
CC: why do you two always come to me when you’re lookin for each other  
DD: Oh no. Oh, I’m very worried. And I’ve wasted so much time talking to you!! Oh, gosh, I’m such an old fool.  
CC: you’re not a fool, man, you’re a damn professor at a big shot uni! and what are you, like, sixty?  
DD: Fifty-five  
CC: dude. you are NOT old. okay maybe you’re a little old, like just a bit, but you’re gucci my man  
CC: also, hey, rude. talkin to yours truly is NEVER a waste of time ;P  
DD: I know, I know, I’m just frustrated. I know I leveled up today, but it came from doing absolutely nothing of consequence, I’m sure of it! So maybe I’m just fucking everything up!  
CC: how many times have i gotta say dude before you listen  
CC: look i’m just sittin in my truck doin nothin, i’ll head back to the house and see if i can find where she went   
DD: Oh, that means so much to me, Franky! You’re putting this weary heart at ease.  
CC: hey, no problemo my amigo

You sigh, leaning back in the front seat of your pickup and putting your can of cola in the cup holder. You’re itching to play the game with your friends, but you can’t in good conscience leave Brook to worry about Robin. Plus, you’re kinda worried about her too. It’s not like her to not answer her phone. Add that to the fact that Chimney’s still not at your house with your borrowed computer, and you figure you’ve got time to start looking for Robin.

As you start up the car and turn it around, you catch sight of someone in your rear view mirror. 

You can’t see details very well, she’s too far down on the coast, but your imagination can easily complete the picture. She’s _gorgeous_. Long flowing skirt, a rockin’ bod, narrow eyes, a flimsy sunhat swaying in the maritime breeze. An odd feeling rushes over you as you stare out at her. Not quite attraction, though hot _damn_ is that there too. In fact, looking at her, you almost feel a little...well, a little sad. Melancholy, maybe. That feeling’s definitely compounded by the fact that she’s looking right at you, as if her eyes could stare right through your soul from a hundred feet away.

Needless to say, you are more than a little turned on.

CC: ooh  
DD: What?? Is it Robin??  
CC: no i’m just parked at the dump by the beach and i saw a cute gal by the water

You turn over your shoulder, anxious for another look at her. 

She’s gone.

CC: uh  
CC: wait hold on  
CC: hey brook been neat chattin witcha ttyl bb

You close the log before you can read Brook’s reply and stop your car in the middle of the parking lot. She’s just straight up gone. Can people even _do_ that? Just disappear into thin air? That’s wack. Maybe this is some freaked out magic bullshit or a devil fruit thing. Yeah, that must be it, how else would she just disappear? Well, she may be a lady, but if she’s a user, you think you can handle her. You always carry a pair of SEASTONE HANDCUFFS with you in your sylladex, just in case—after all, it’s not the first time someone with devil fruit powers has tried to take you down.

Alright, maybe you’re not as turned on as you were before. Disappearing ghost ladies tend to kill that vibe, you know what I mean? As you walk down the beach, your eyes are peeled for the babe invisible. Where she was standing still looks empty. You equip your WEAPONS LEFT and approach the high tide line, where you could’ve sworn she was before—

A hand taps on your shoulder and you just MCFREAKIN’ LOSE IT. A high-pitched screech that _definitely_ didn’t come from you rings through the air as you spin yourself around to fire at whoever just poked you, but there’s nothing there but a few flower petals—

“Hello, Franky,” a woman’s voice says. 

Not about to lose it a second time, you make a mildly less undignified noise and turn on the source of the sound, who, _this time_ at least, hasn’t yet disappeared. It’s the babe, sitting on the sand like she’s been waiting there all her life.

That odd feeling of melancholy comes over you for a moment, but it’s quickly drowned out by confusion. As you keep your weapons trained on her, you somehow manage to form a complete sentence. “The hell, lady? How’d you know my name?”

She chuckles quietly, unfazed, and looks out to the horizon line. “This weather, it’s incredible. Did you know that it’s very hot in Texas? A person could burn alive in this kind of heat.”

“...Uh. Yikes.” You grimace at the casual way she says that, but don’t lower your weapons. After all, she’s still kinda creepy. Hotter up close, _definitely,_ but still creepy. “You never been to the beach before?”

She shakes her head, sending the brim of her hat flopping in the sea breeze. “Unfortunately, the beaches up by Boston aren’t the greatest.”

“You’re from Boston? What’re you doing here?”

“Looking for my friend, of course.” When she turns and smiles at you, your world explodes, just a little bit. “There’s an apocalypse going on, and we’re supposed to be playing a game, right?”

“Wait, but how would you kno—“

The puzzle clicks together and like the clueless idiot you are, you suddenly realize who you’ve been talking to.

“...Robin?” you gape. When she starts to laugh in confirmation, you feel your grin stretch so wide you could eat your truck. You stow your weapons and immediately dive for her, wrapping your arms around her in an aggressively strong embrace. The two of you tumble through the sand in a hazy mess, laughing together with a strange joy you haven’t felt in what must be forever. “Holy SHIT, _ROBIN!!_ ” 

“I—Franky, _please!_ —it’s wonderful to see you too,” she says, voice muffled by your mechanical shoulder. You can still hear the smile in the vibrations of her words, so she can’t really be too annoyed. “You’ve grown taller since I last saw you.”

“Really? Hehe, wow!” Feeling the sudden urge to flex, you pull away from her and stand, striking a series of the most impressive poses you can think of. You’ve both fallen far down the shore from your tackle hug, but neither of you seem to be any worse for the wear. Besides, everything you know about Robin leads you to believe that she can handle herself in a bit of an enthusiastic scuffle. Gah, how didn’t you figure out it was her sooner?! Boston, devil fruit powers, hands where no hands should ever be. Gah, of _course!_ “Babe, I’m flattered you noticed! And hell, Robin, I hope this doesn’t come off creepy but you are lookin’ absolutely fuckin’ _phenomenal!”_ You think you might need to work on controlling the volume of your voice right now, but you also don’t give a crap because, holy shit Robin’s here!

...Robin’s _here._

Oh, fuck. 

“Wait, hold on a minute, doll.” The smile falls from your face before you can catch it, and you help Robin to her feet. She must notice because her smile crumbles away. “How _long_ have you been here?”

Robin sighs, almost in disappointment, and avoids your question as if it’s an accusation. “This was...nice, Franky. It’s been ages since I’ve seen anyone—”

“So lemme get this straight. Brook’s been trying to reach you for who knows how long, and you’ve been _here?_ Damn, he’s been worried sick about you! You gotta call him, A-S-A-P—“

“I can’t,” she says, her tone suddenly brisk. She’s not laughing anymore either, eyes downcast at the damp sand beneath her flip flops. “I don’t have a phone.”

“What? Doll, _everyone’s_ got a phone. How the hell would you use Denden?”

“The SLINE terminal in my lab. I’ve been offline since I left this morning.” Robin moves towards you smoothly, but you can hear the mild...something in her voice. That melancholy thing again. She places her hands lightly on your forearms and looks up at you, eyes brimming with that depressing-ass something. “Franky, I’m sorry to rush you, but I don’t have time to explain just yet. I need you to promise me something before I explain. Please don’t ask questions yet, I’ll tell you everything I can, but only once you’ve agreed.”

“I...” You’re so lost. “What?” 

“Promise me that you’ll bring me into the game with you,” she says, her solid stare pinning you down. “Promise you’ll take me to Brook’s world and you’ll kill me there. I won’t tell you anything if you don’t give me this.”

The about-face hits you so hard that she might as well have pulled a gun out of her hat and pistol-whipped you across the balls. You lean away from her, as if to get a full look at her in her entirety. She’s still the same Robin, right? 

When she doesn’t say it’s a joke, you’re not so sure about that. In fact, you actually feel something like anger start to boil in your gut at the idea that she’d ask something like that of you. “...Fuckin’— _kill you?!_ What the fuck, Robin, I told Brook I’d help him find you, I’m not about to help you off yourself—“

 _“Promise,”_ she urges. “Please. Time is not an ally we share.”

You stare into her eyes, practically seeing the plea written across them. Maybe you can’t quite read her, but she doesn’t look sad, or like she’s begging for some sort of sweet release. In fact, it doesn’t seem like the idea of death bothers her as much as waiting for your answer does.

Unbidden, something Usopp once said to you comes to mind—

_“Sometimes I wonder about Robin and what she knows, you know? She’s got the solution to everything right in her mind before we even know there’s a problem.”_

Fuck. Oh, fuck fuck, this is stupid. A bad idea, a bad agreement. It’d be asinine to agree to her demands.

The promise is out of your mouth before you can even fully acknowledge how stupid this is.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“We’re almost there. Pull over.”

You oblige her blankly, not even bothering to ask how she knew that your destination was just around the corner. At this point you’ve got bigger questions on your mind. 

Your beat-up vehicle slips and slides in the dirt alongside the road, eventually coming to a full stop. The short drive from the beach had been made in complete and utter silence, punctuated only by the occasional whine of your truck’s engine or a tense sip of cola. To you, it took fifty years just to get here. There are so many damn questions, you have questions _about_ your questions for her. And as if _that_ wasn’t enough, the promise still feels bitter and heavy on your tongue. You’re usually a hella reliable guy, but...this a promise you wouldn’t mind breaking.

You set the parking brake and cast a long look over at Nico Robin, her presence an odd mix of jarring and familiar. She’s leaning towards the window, absently swirling a can of Coke in her hand. Somehow, having her in your car feels normal. Like she matches. 

“We have a few hours, that should be enough.” As you watch, she turns towards you, then rubs her lips together in an approximation of nervousness. “Franky, I should—“ She stops and sighs tightly, placing the drink down, forgotten. “Can we go outside? I think the fresh air might do me some good.”

You shrug and leave the driver’s seat, leaning against the door as Robin climbs out to join you. You didn’t think you’d ever meet her in person, but damn, if anyone could find a way to fuck your expectations six ways to Sunday, Robin could.

The silence lingers for a few seconds before she looks up and exhales again. “I...I have to admit, I’m not even sure where to start.”

“Try the beginning,” you suggest dryly, only half being an asshole about it. She gives you a nasty look, but it quickly fades away.

“It’s not exactly _easy_ to pinpoint the beginning for my story, Mister Shipwright.”

You snort a little. “Well, ain’t that a throwback. You haven’t called me that in years.”

“Well, I’d hoped that after the professor’s accident, we’d be closer.”

“We were. Still are, right?”

“Right, of course,” she says, a little too nicely. She’s gonna be dodgy about this, isn’t she. You don’t like beating around the bush.

“Alright. Then why did you need me to promise that I’d kill you?”

Her body tenses slightly beside you, hands gripping the hood of the car just a fraction tighter than before. “I know you’re upset—“

“Of _course_ I’m fucking upset!”

“—but I wouldn’t ask it of you if it wasn’t of vital importance. I didn’t mean to drag you all down with me the first time, and I don’t intend to continue doing so.”

“Still not hearin’ a why.”

She bristles slightly. “If you want a why, then here it is. If I go godtier, my powers might be enough to undo the damage I’ve caused. The only way to do that is to enter the game, find your quest bed, and die on it, in order to be reborn as a godly being. But when we enter, I won’t have a planet of my own, or a quest bed. Since Brook and I share the same aspect, his quest bed should suffice. So I need to hitch a ride with you to the Medium, travel to Brook’s world, and die there.”

You frown. You know a decent amount about this game from your friends and from that walkthrough you read, so you’re able to somewhat parse what she’s saying. “You won’t have your own planet? Why not? Doesn’t every player have their planet and quest and shit like that generated when they enter the game?”

“The issue isn’t in the layout of the game, but rather, with me. I don’t quite count as a player, server _or_ client—the closest thing I can think of would be a moderator. Able to facilitate between server and client, and able to monitor the game, but unable to play as either or directly join the session.”

“Is there even an option for that?”

“On my copy it was the only option available. I received a pre-release version of SLINE from a man by the name of Rob Lucci, when I was only eight years old. I began to play, unaware of the dangers that the game brings with it. Lucci served as a sort of twisted mentor.”

“Rob Lucci,” you echo. Seems normal enough. Something about it rubs you the wrong way, though. “Should I know that name?”

“No. He hasn’t been born yet. Nor will he be for centuries.”

You bark out a laugh despite yourself. “Alright, babe, very funny! So what you’re tryin’ to tell me is that he came from the future to mentor you?”

She shakes her head slowly. “To kill me. But he failed, and I killed him instead. He still served as my mentor regardless, up until recently. And he didn’t come back to this time, but rather, my entire story takes place in his. To his knowledge, the Earth was destroyed by a meteor storm eight hundred years before I met him. Roughly 0.000079% of the human population survived the event—to be precise, a little over five hundred thousand people, across the globe. It was this environment that influenced his decision to guide me in the first place.”

“...Uh.” Your voice kind of cracks on that one. Yet again, you resist the urge to laugh—but judging by the nervous tension set in Robin’s expression, this one isn’t a joke either.

Robin exhales a shaky breath. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions, but please, before you judge, just let me explain. I...I have a bit of a lofty confession to make.”

She laughs, hollow.

“I guess I should start off by saying I’m not really from Boston.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

> Years in the future...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;O


	21. > Years in the future...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Click the link at the end.

And hours in the past.

A young woman quietly waits for her front seat ticket to the end of the world.

That young woman is you—NICO ROBIN. 

You exhale quietly, your short breaths fogging on the plexiglass panel of your helmet. It’s been years since you’ve been outside, and by extension, worn a pressure suit. It’s like being smushed into a tin can, all hollow and cramped and realistically not much of a barrier to the vacuum of space around you. 

Normally, you’re not scared of that pure void around you. You were born on Ohara Station, and living among the soundless stars was a natural fact of life. Usually the silence was a comfort.

But you are NO LONGER ON THE STATION. You are ADRIFT THROUGH SPACE in a small ESCAPE POD, and there is NO ONE ALIVE BUT YOU for millions of miles. Today, the silence is deafening. 

After a few minutes, you can’t fucking take it anymore.

\- -  naiveReality [NR] opened log to  octoDisciples [OD]  - -

NR: Mister Sniperking, how much longer do I have to wait? At this point I might just explode if I sit here for another second.  
OD: Hold your horses, my comrade! I’m just setting you up for a proper reentry. You know what will happen to you if you don’t make the portal.  
NR: I won’t have enough fuel to return to Ohara, and I’ll die in space of eventual asphyxiation, alone without anyone to carry on the knowledge that I am now the sole keeper of.  
OD: Not the —>sole<— keeper, brave Miss Nico! You will always have me!  
NR: Not for much longer. You know what happens when I leave.   
OD: Well, yes...but humans live on in each other’s hearts forever! And when you meet the alpha version of me, you might be able to reawaken some of my knowledge within him.  
NR: I suppose.  
NR: Honestly I think this waiting is making me a little paranoid.  
OD: Don’t be! You’re a hero, and heroes don’t feel fear!  
NR: I’m not entirely sure how accurate that is~  
OD: Just relax and wait, everything will turn out fine.  
NR: Usopp, how do you stand this?  
NR: You ~know~ that you’re going to die, right? Not just you, but the other Usopps from the other timelines. All of them will die, no matter what I change this time around and no matter how readily you send me back to fix things. All gruesomely, all unfairly. Not only have we seen it in the clouds on Prospit, but you’ve seen it happen to the others before, and they’ve seen it happen to you. How are you not afraid of that?

You immediately roll your head back in embarrassment, the bluntness of your statement startling even you. Your Usopp’s attitude towards you is normally so calm and confident, and you try not to do anything to set him off, but that was definitely not the right thing to say. 

He doesn’t reply.

If your ship was large enough to walk around in, you’d certainly be pacing holes in the hull, but the way it is you’re stuck in your seat as you desperately hope Usopp will answer you. To avoid the issue, you pretend you’re back in your station, moderating this impending SLINE crisis in the alpha timeline. Terrible connection aside, you message your friends over and over about the plan of this game, all the while making sure that you’ll be set to enter their session on schedule. Luffy was already recruited by you to convince the others to play—he’s incredibly skilled when it comes to...to peopleing—and as a result, only the micromanagement is left to you. You give the alpha Usopp everything he needs to connect to Zoro, then leave them be on the premise that everything will be fine since it’s Usopp, he’s capable. Just in case, you remind Usopp not to die horrifically, planning to key that phrase in your timeline’s Usopp in order to give the alpha a fighting chance to avoid such a grisly end. The Midnight Crew has gone ahead of you to the alpha timeline and they follow your instructions, so you have Boxcars destroy Franky’s computer to delay his entry. You make sure Nami gets on board with playing the game, and when Sanji inevitably sticks his nose in, you make sure that he also doesn’t have any choice but to help you. You explain to the two of them what you can about the situation—that the meteors destroying everything are a function of the game, that the nine of you have to enter the game in order to save everyone. You don’t go into much detail on how.

Only when Nami decides to prototype her girlfriend do you start to worry. So you make a rash, hasty decision to stop her from producing a live sprite, and you have Slick take the shot and then everything on her end goes dark. You try not to blame yourself—after all, you’re trying to save the world that matters. She’ll have to understand your admittedly harsh actions eventually. When Sanji suddenly spazzes out in the group chat between you three, you send Deuce and Droog to rescue him, but somehow Brook beats you to the punch? Regardless, you send Brook on his way home to connect to Sanji, extending the chain of players in game.

Still no Usopp.

You check the levels on your ship’s readout. Life support at 3%. It’s a good thing you have your suit. And that you weren’t planning on anything other than a one way trip. In fact, the more you think about it, the more this entire adventure is starting to feel like a one way trip. 

Once you’ve waited for an hour without a reply from your friend, you stop texting everyone and start planning for your own entry. Stalling Franky means that you have an opportunity to enter the session with him—Usopp’s calculations have shown that you’ll most likely crash land in southern Texas, and the closest person is Franky, so the choice seems obvious. While you wait to enter with him, your dreamself will free Zoro and Sanji from their shared Dersite prison, and lead them to their sacrificial slabs to achieve godtier. You’re fairly certain that convincing them to trade their physical bodies for godly ones shouldn’t be difficult with boys of their ego. Your strength combined should be more than enough to ensure victory against the Black King, and once you enter, you’ll guide your eight players to victory, lead them to the Ultimate Reward, and send them off to restore this world to what it should be.

Easy enough.

You wish you were as confident about this plan as your smooth texts make it seem. You can’t help but feel like something will go horribly wrong.

Your console pings and your worries are immediately abandoned as you scramble to activate the screen.

OD: Sorry it took so long to reply, I had a lot to handle and think about. Your ship is finally set for the right coordinates, the portal should appear right in front of you in nine minutes.

You take a moment to sync a timer on your console before reading the rest.

OD: And as for your question?  
OD: I —>am<— scared. I’m sure every iteration of me is. But if it’s an inevitability, then I should try and make as much of a difference as I can before that inevitability becomes a reality. I’d rather die fighting than die on my knees, I guess.  
OD: Don’t worry about me. Worry about the Usopp you’re going to meet! The one from your screens—>  
NR: But you’re my friend too.  
OD: Yeah, always.  
NR: I’m sorry, I just snapped a bit. It’s too quiet here.  
OD: Well, let’s see. Everything’s set on my end. Do you have the body?  
NR: Yes. Deceased, hence the lack of a good speaking partner~  
OD: Perfect, then you’ve got everything you need to make it through these trying times. Have no fear! Besides, you won’t be alone for much longer.  
NR: ?  
OD: Oh, boy, not much longer at all. Better copy and paste that farewell I wrote a few days ago—>  
OD: Good luck in the alpha timeline, Miss Nico! Even though our time has been short, for what it’s worth, I’m glad we got to be friends. Stay safe, stay true to yourself, and do whatever needs to be done to protect the main reality. I know you can do it. You’ve been a wonderful friend to me and to my alpha counterpart, and I hope that he will understand all that you’ve done in time (pardon the pun, hehe). When the time (hehehe) comes, you will know exactly what to do. I, the great and powerful Sniperking, believe in you, and so you must believe in yourself!  
OD: And, uh. Keep Usopp happy, alright?  
NR: Usopp, what are y

\- - draconicTempest [DT] closed your log to octoDisciples [OD] - -  
\- - draconicTempest [DT] opened log to naiveReality [NR] - -

DT: Hello there  
DT: How are you doing, Nico Robin?

You try and click out of this log back to Usopp’s, but it won’t let you.

Your stomach sinks with dread. Was that the last conversation you’ll ever have with your dear friend? The idea worries you even more than his impending death—you didn’t get to say thank you to him for everything he’s done for you. What kind of friend does that make you?

DT: Don’t bother, he won’t answer. He’s probably dead already

You don’t think you’re going to enjoy this conversation at all. 

NR: You are playing a dangerous game.  
DT: So are you.

...Touché.

NR: That’s not funny. I am incredibly confused and concerned right now—and possibly even angry at you for wrenching my last conversation with my dear friend away. Playing with my emotions is probably the last thing you should be doing.   
DT: Understandable. But here I am anyway  
DT: Consider it my dangerous game  
NR: How do you know me? How do you know Usopp’s dead? And who are you? I probably should have reorganized those questions but frankly I can’t be bothered to make things easier for you.  
DT: My name is Monkey D. Dragon. I’m from the alpha timeline, which I’m certain you know of by this point.  
DT: You know my son  
DT: Not Sabo, for clarification. The other one.  
DT: Or Ace  
NR: ...Luffy?  
DT: That one.  
DT: As for your friend Usopp, he’s hardly either of our concerns anymore.

Now some of the occasional things Luffy has told you about his father suddenly make worlds more sense. No wonder he despises the man.

NR: Besides the crucial fact that you’re a raging asshole who fits your descriptions to a T, how do I know you’re truly who you say you are?  
DT: Trust me  
DT: If I weren’t me, you’d know by now.  
DT: I’m also about to die but that’s beside the point.  
DT: Actually that’s probably the most relevant thing I’ve said so far so I retract my previous statement  
DT: How would you like to babysit my kids for me?

_Babysit?_

You contemplate your odd feeling at seeing that word. It’s been a long time since you first translated it from the poneglyph. Does this scenario have any connection to that? Well, you don’t have much time for speculation—Dragon’s already commandeered the conversation as if you’d already said yes. The man types like a machine gun racing a thunderstorm.

DT: For clarification, a meteor is about to hit my office building precisely where my office is.  
DT: I may have lied to my kids about being on the road in hopes that they wouldn’t know I was predestined to perish  
DT: And the fact that they are too  
DT: Well, Ace and Sabo, anyway. Not the other one.  
DT: *Luffy  
DT: Their grandfather is hardly competent enough to watch a dog let alone two reckless teenagers, and you’ll be arriving in this timeline soon, so I decided to turn to you.  
NR: I’m not sure I follow, Mister Dragon. How do you know I’m not from the alpha timeline?  
DT: Because I’m about to die? Keep up  
DT: Now, let’s stop wasting time. I need you to connect to Luffy’s SLINE game and set him up while he’s still outside setting the house on fire with his brother.  
DT: I also need you to prototype that body you’ve got there. If you want, I’ll zap it over to my house. I’ll also send you the appropriate copy of the game, since I know you don’t have it.   
NR: Again, I’m finding your uncanny knowledge of my situation rather disturbing.  
DT: I’ve heard many people say the same about you  
DT: I have a plan, Nico Robin. Many will die, but with your help, the world may not be forsaken.  
DT: Connect to Luffy. Now, please  
NR: I won’t. My goal was to connect to Usopp as a moderator.  
DT: No it isn’t  
DT: Don’t lie to yourself. You know you want to be a bigger part of the game.  
NR: ...What are you implying~?  
DT: No interruptions.  
DT: Now look. You’ve thrown me off my rhythm. Where was I  
DT: Ah  
DT: And besides, it was never about the Seer. I have my own sources and they all point to Luffy being the key to the Ultimate Reward.  
DT: You know the Seer will die anyway, it’s not really that much of a loss.  
DT: But my Heir  
DT: If he falls the whole system falls.  
DT: The moment he puts himself in harms way is the moment when our story ends. You read your poneglyph, you must understand that much.  
DT: And your friend from this timeline told you to do whatever is necessary to protect the alphas and ensure the ultimate reward winds up in Luffy’s hands  
DT: So again I must ask—  
DT: Are you down to babysit?

Before you can even begin to formulate an answer, the space in front of your console warps inward and unfolds into a small manila envelope, marked with the SLINE logo. You extend a chain of hands to catch it before it can drift out of your reach and open it—it’s the server copy of the game, just like he said it would be.

NR: How did you do that?  
DT: I’m a Lord of Void  
DT: Doing stupidly impossible things like hiring you through timelines without a Time player or sending you a package through space without a Space player is easy.  
NR: Unlike talking to you.  
DT: That is true  
DT: Anyway consider the game your fee for your childcare services. Seeing as I am soon to be quite dead, I can’t imagine we’ll ever meet, and death outside the game is realistically not something I can void myself back from.  
DT: Hm  
DT: It is getting bright in here and Ivankov has begun playing “My Way” over the PA system. There are many screams.  
DT: Death must be imminent.  
DT: Please start the game and deal with my child now

Dragon goes silent.

You check the timer. You only have a few more minutes before the portal will appear. When you try to message Usopp or Luffy asking for their opinions on your predicament, you find that Dragon has still locked you out of your other logs. This decision is entirely up to you. You should connect to Usopp. That was your plan. Maybe not Luffy’s plan, he’d wanted Zoro to instead, but you’d insisted. You know your Usopp too well—you owe it to him to make his alpha counterpart your ultimate responsibility. 

But. Dragon is right about one thing. There’s a reason all of you have forged connections that transcend timelines and universes—and that reason is Luffy. Monkey D. Luffy, Heir to...something. To everything, possibly. At least, if the story inscribed on the Ohara Poneglyph is any indication.

And Dragon is right about something else—as much as you want to deny it, you want to be more than a moderator. You know it’s not your place to try and be a bigger part of saving the universe, but you think it’d be nice for people to know you as more than a lone stagehand working in the wings. Especially considering what you know will happen to you when the game ends.

It’s just like Dragon says. If Usopp dies, that’s predestination fulfilling itself, regardless of what you do to avoid it.

But if Luffy dies, it’s game over. With Luffy, you have the ability to make a change.

You suppose that answers your question.

You type Luffy’s Denden handle into the game startup window and see a familiar sight—the kitchen of the Monkey household. He must have set up Chopper’s game from there, since all the necessary items are deployed. Besides the usual clutter, though, the room is empty. Dragon said something about Luffy setting the house on fire? You don’t see any indication of that.

The timer beeps suddenly—a two minute warning. Better go fast.

You deploy a second Cruxtruder in the hallway outside the kitchen and shape the cruxite into the necessary item. Hm. It looks like one of those clown horns that you read about. You’ve never seen one in the flesh before—clowns, like most of Earth’s more pleasant pastimes, have been extinct for centuries. You’ve always found their silly little smiles to be oddly charming. And you suppose Luffy would like clowns? Maybe. He is a little bit of a trickster when you think about it. You also think this tangent might be getting a bit out of hand. You place the item on his laptop, where it should be easily visible, and then turn to the sprite. The bright red orb flickers menacingly, waiting for you to make your move.

Before you can even type a request to Dragon, you hear a strange distortion behind you, and you look back just in time to see the freezer containing Rob Lucci’s body disappear. Goodness. Dragon is such an enigma, he even confuses _you_. 

The freezer appears a foot off the ground in Luffy’s kitchen, clanging open and dropping Lucci’s corpse unceremoniously on the ground. In a weird way, you suppose you should be grateful that the Midnight Crew is so adept with preserving a body. You pick up the body and deposit it in the sprite, closing the screen quickly after. You don’t have time to see the results, but you suppose, if Dragon is as aware of things as he says he is, then this will turn out fine. You wonder if your Void abilities will be anything like his.

You check your timer. Record time. Maybe you’ve picked up some elite gaming skills from Sanji. Still, the portal should be opening soon, you really cut this one close.

NR: I set everything up for Luffy.  
DT: Good, that should protect him somewhat.  
DT: By the way, I’m curious   
DT: How did Shanks die  
NR: Shanks?  
DT: The body you prototyped  
NR: That wasn’t his name.  
DT: ?  
NR: He went by Rob Lucci.  
DT: Oh.  
DT:   
DT: Fuck

\- -  draconicTempest [DT] has disconnected - -

You don’t have time to process that before your ship jolts violently, slamming your head back against the headrest. You see stars—both real and imaginary—and as you right yourself, you watch as the space directly in front of your ship glows a bright red and fashions itself into a massive spinning spirograph. 

As you hold on for dear life, the scenery around you changes to a different version of itself. You could swear it looks slightly bluer here—not that you have time to notice it, because your escape pod is now shaking like it’s going to fall apart around you at any moment. It’s feeling hot too, way hotter than before—oh. Oh, your ship’s on fire. That’s probably why. You look out the front of the pod in hopes of finding the source of the flames.

When you see the Earth for the first time, nothing matters anymore. 

You’ve seen pictures of the Earth before. Old, dated ones taken on antiquated smartphones or from the International Space Station before its crash in 2443. But nothing prepared you for how...how _blue_ it would be in the flesh. Right now, as it takes up your entire windshield, it sparkles brighter than any star you’ve ever seen. You’ve lived in a base of metal and canned air for your whole life, only seeing places as beautiful as this from the other side of a screen—but to have the real thing right in front of you, almost close enough to touch, is almost unbearable.

And right now, Earth is under siege. Portal after portal appears around you, launching meteors down into the atmosphere. You can already see some of the impacts on the surface of the planet—bright red marks on the ground like blisters, displacing that gorgeous sparkling blue.

All of your friends—all of _humanity—_ is down there.

And it’s all about to be destroyed.

Your escape pod usually has steering, but the atmosphere has fried it, so now, _you_ are one of the meteors ready to destroy the world. As gravity yanks you down through space with enough force to rob you of consciousness, you’re helpless to do anything but hold on to your seat with as many arms as you can and pray that you make it.

~ ~ ~ ~

You wake up in your demolished pod feeling like you just crash landed from outer space. Which, technically, you did. The fact that your sarcasm has survived the crash is probably a good sign.

The shield of limbs around you dissipates, revealing your ship’s damaged interior. Even from the first look, you can tell it’s completely unsalvageable. Your seat has been ripped free of the floor panels, leaving you on your side against the uneven ground. Everything’s at an angle now, and the holes in the hull are leaking sunlight and steam. At least there’s no gas. Good.

The computer system is a different story. It’s cracked to hell and barely possible to read. As your crawl upwards and lean over your display screen, you notice that there’s a new alliance in your messages. 

\- - reinventingLucky [RL] has formed alliance “I told you you’d need me” \- -  
\- - reinventingLucky [RL] allied with naiveReality [NR] - -  
\- - reinventingLucky [RL] allied with kaizokuKing [KK] - -

RL: Thank you for giving me your time, Nico Robin. You’ve made my mission that much easier.  
RL: These sprite abilities are truly something. Wish I could talk, though. Kind of blaming you for that one.  
RL: And of course, thank *you*, Straw Hat. If you weren’t so eccentric, I’d never have been able to prototype myself again.  
RL: Oops almost forgot

\- -  reinventingLucky [RL] allied with  pyroTechnician [PT]  - -

RL: This way, Ace, you can truly still be with us. In body and in spirit.  
RL: Separately.  
KK: stop it.  
RL: And who’s gonna make me, rubber boy? Not you. Definitely not your brother’s corpse.  
KK: stop it. just stop just fucking STOPGHht  
RL: I’d recommend you think a little harder before pressing send again. Wouldn’t want the bloodline to end with you, after all.  
KK: did you just fucking villain monologue over t e x t  
KK: weakfhkKH  
RL: Please stop breathing.  
RL: Where was I...  
RL: Nico Robin. Well done, protecting your client. He almost made it to the driveway.  
RL: I know you may try to stop me, in whatever way you can. But make no mistake. I will finish what I was set out to do, no matter how many walls you put in my way.  
RL: I think I’ll start with the captain. Cut off the head, as it were.  
RL: No reply? Nothing to my intentions to murder?  
KK: shes not replying since shes not scared of you douchebag  
KK: and netiher the fUCKh anm i  
KK: shit tyops   
KK: robin dw im gonna muredr this sonovabitch before he can do wvaether weirdo plan hes gotin store  
KK: soon as i get this fuckin thing out fo my chest  
KK: i hate you   
RL: You’re really a pain.  
RL: Seems our devil child is still unconscious. I suppose she’ll get to read this later. And no, the poetic irony of that is not lost on me.  
RL: Well, young man. Any last words so your friend can read them in retrospect?  
KK: were in the same fucking room why r u aggressively typing at me  
RL: Not what I would have gone with. 

The alliance goes silent. That was an hour ago.

Your breath catches in your throat as you read it again, once, twice. No. No no no, this wasn’t supposed to happen. You were supposed to protect him, that was the whole point of connecting to him in the first place! He. He can’t be dead. Lucci couldn’t have killed Luffy. It doesn’t make sense. That’s not how this is supposed to happen. Dragon said it himself, Luffy can’t die. You did this to protect him.

NR: Luffy! Are you alright?

No response.

Your eyes feel heavy, brimming with tears that are a heady mix of anger and pain. This is your fault. You’re the reason he...your _friend_ is...

NR: Oh no. Oh no, no no. Luffy, no. Please no.  
RL: Well, he’s still got a dreamself.  
RL: Let’s fix that.

\- -  reinventingLucky [RL]  has dissolved the alliance - - 

A dreamself. As small as the hope is, it’s still there. You can still save him.

No, not _can._ You _have_ to. You owe him that much. And you refuse to fail him. You’ll just have to beat Lucci to the punch.

You try and check the game files. Luffy’s game seems to have crashed, so your role as a server is officially over. You absolute fool, it was a mistake to even try. The moderator file is still chugging along though—but there’s an error message on the screen.

WARNING: (9) FATAL ERROR(S) DETECTED  
-universeA(gameFile SLINE) failed to import, replaced with universeB(gameFile SBURB);  
-universeA() imported with 84975951111 exception(s);  
-forge.exe not found;  
-navigationSystem() failed to import;  
-ultimateReward.exe not found;  
-NPCmasterList() failed to import;  
-wireless connection to universeA(gameFile SLINE) failed;  
-LOSAS.exe run with 1 exception(s);  
-unable to purge virus “reinventingLucky.exe”;

A virus?

You prototyped a virus.

You don’t have time to decipher everything, because after a few seconds of staring at it, the screen flickers once and goes dark. The ship engine slowly dwindles, from a hum down to silence. If you had any regrets about coming to Earth, it’s too late to back down.

Wiping your tears away aggressively, you send a mental message to your dreamself to begin your plan to rescue the boys—you need their strength now more than ever. She tries to fight you at first, but as soon as you inform her of Lucci she immediately goes to find Sanji’s tower. With their help, you may be able to hold them off from Luffy long enough to revive him. You drag yourself upright and, after a moment, pull off your helmet and shake out your hair. The air is a bit hard to breathe—it’s dry. You’ve never felt this hot before. You quickly strip out of your heavy-duty pressure suit, bandage your minimal wounds, and don the outfit you’d packed before leaving. It’s the most summery clothing you own, and you’re still way too warm. 

You can’t do anything for now. Damn it, you  _hate_ being useless. Your alpha dreamself operates on a different system than you and you have no control over her, so her actions are entirely her own. You have no part in making sure everything works out on the dream worlds. Until you get into the game and go godtier, you’re dead weight.

You give the ship one last glance over, then check your sylladex for all your (admittedly sparse) worldly possessions.

There’s nothing more you can do until you get into the game. Maybe if you say that enough, you can convince yourself that it’s okay to just sit around and wait for your ticket out of here.

As you climb outside, the heat _really_ hits you. It’s far worse now that you're out in the bright, burning sun. You’ve crashed on a beach. You’ve never seen a beach before—you suppose it’s a nice first _and_ last new place to see.

That thought in mind, you situate yourself on the sand and wait.

~ ~ ~ ~

Franky’s silence is deafening.

You know he’s looking at you right now, trying to parse the fact that you’re the reason his beloved computer is destroyed. So you don’t meet his eyes, instead staring out at the horizon. He must hate you for this. Who wouldn’t? Everything is your fault. 

Tears of frustration and anger and honestly way too much emotion well up in your eyes as you try not to shake. You’ve done such horrible things, and caused so many problems, all while hiding the truth from your closest friends. Now this game is going to hell and you’re the reason why. You knew you’d have to explain your numerous mistakes to someone eventually, you just never thought it’d be this painful.

You catch a glance of Franky out of the corner of your eye as he pushes off the truck and takes a few steps away. He sighs, hard. Oh, you don’t think you can handle this.

“So, lemme see if I got this straight, doll,” he says. “First off, multiverse theory is real and you’re from both 800 years in the future... _and_ a different timeline.”

He looks toward you and you nod quickly—you don’t quite trust your voice right now.

“And Lucci was your...’mentor’? Even though he’s now a virus and a murderer and also a corpse _and_ a sprite?”

“Yes.” Your words sound hollow coming from you. “His pre-vis copy of the game contained detailed notes on how to navigate SLINE’s world and programming and manipulate them. Through the code, I was able to reach all of you and start influencing what was left of my timeline, while also keeping an eye on yours through my SLINE terminal. Using his guides helped me find my Usopp, who in turn helped me figure out how to join you all. Even though his body was dead, Lucci’s tutorials and knowledge still lead me here.”

“Great, so Lynda.com for assholes. Simple enough,” he says with a snort. “Okay, next. The game and the meteors are connected and Earth is just royally fucked. Which explains why Iceburg’s house is destroyed, and why Nami and Luffy had a bunch of meteor sightings across the states. And the reason you brought us together, through Luffy, to play the game is because, through some weird-ass arrangement of fate and coincidence, the nine of us are supposed to save the universe through it.”

“Eight,” you whisper.

“Huh?”

You try and clear your throat a bit. “I’m a moderator. I’m not supposed to enter the game myself. I shouldn’t have a world or any of those constructs upon entry, because I never prototyped my own sprite or loaded a client file. Because I tried to get myself more involved, I—“ Your voice catches at what you know comes after that and you quickly cut yourself off.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll get to that,” he says, though it doesn’t sound as harsh as the words themselves. “Alright. So you’re a time traveler, the game is real, and we’re supposed to get some...’Ultimate Reward’ for completing it?”

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

“The right universe.”

“...What?”

“I don’t know many details,” you begin. “But from what I read in the Poneglyph at my station, our Ultimate Reward is supposed to be a new universe where our lives are as they should be.”

He doesn’t seem to understand you, so you continue.

“Think about it. Don’t you always feel like there’s something...a little bit off with the way things are? As if everyone already figured out something was missing, and tried to find a way to make it right. All of you have felt it. Take Sanji. His true passion is cooking, but he ignores regardless and pretends that he wants to excel in something that doesn’t matter nearly as much to him. Nami wastes her life away swindling strangers on the internet in hopes of saving her mother’s life, even though she knows it’s a lost cause. Our friend Brook lives in a constant state of pain and disquiet, despite having a devil fruit that should theoretically make his suffering much easier. I’m sure you know Zoro’s family situation isn’t healthy for any child that age to be going through, and to a lesser extent, Chopper struggles with similar social issues. I’ve known two Usopps in my life, and both of them have expressed a great desire to do something worthy of the history books, but struggle to find anything that could possibly achieve such a lofty dream. And Luffy...”

Your voice falters as you think of Dragon, constantly trying to keep his son from doing anything of significance for seventeen years of his life. How difficult must that obstacle have felt for Luffy, especially given how hard he tried to overcome it? You almost feel as though you’re not qualified to say anything on his struggles.

To your surprise, Franky breaks the silence.

“I, uh. When I was a kid, I always wanted to go to sea,” he says, a wistful tone coloring his words. “Like be a ferry liner captain or somethin’. Big tech, big ship, nothin’ but waves.” Franky laughs lightly. “I didn’t _abandon_ it, exactly, but it’s just, realistically, Tom and my family needed me here. So I stayed. But...I dunno. I guess I get that _feeling_ sometimes, yeah. Like there’s something else I should be doing. I look out to sea and feel that whole Moana effect, every time.”

“...Moana?”

Franky gives you a narrow look, one that you don’t avoid in time. “You’ve... _never_ seen Moana?”

Oh. So it’s a movie. Yeah, you think you’ve heard of that one before. Clover mentioned it as one of the classics. “Is that the animated movie with all of the ice? I don’t quite get what this effect is supposed to be, in that case.”

In response, Franky just stares at you like you’re from another uni—wait, shit, that joke doesn’t work anymore—like you’ve summoned another six eyeballs on your face and rolled them all simultaneously. You can’t help but feel like you’ve said something wrong.

A few minutes later, as you both sit in his truck listening to “How Far I’ll Go” over tinny speakers for the third time, you _really_ can’t help but feel like he took all of this way too well. The song is pretty, sure, but that’s not the point.

As Franky presses the rewind button again, you can’t hold it in anymore. “I don’t understand. Are you _not_ mad at me?”

“Easy, doll,” he somehow replies smoothly through a swig of cola. “Enjoy Moana for a minute. Sometimes, that’s all ya can do.”

“But this makes no _sense_ , Franky! I—all because of my selfish, desperate need to be part of this narrative, I lied to my friends, I destroyed your computer, I told Slick to kill Nami’s girlfriend, I let Luffy get—“

“Yeah, I got that the first time you told your whole spiel, babe,” Franky says, cutting you off. “You did bad shit for good reasons. So what? A lot of people do that. Look, I’m upset about M-3RRY, but you did it because you needed me to stay so you could come into the game once you got here, right? So I’m not pissed. Hell, the universe is fucked, so a computer isn’t the biggest issue right now. And you said we still have a chance to save Luffy, right?”

You nod slowly, yet again not trusting yourself to answer rationally.

“Great, then that’s gonna be fine. Luffy’s a trooper. And if you sent those kids to take care of him, they can do it. I’ve known ya for too long to just immediately abandon you over a hunk ‘a junk. When we’ve got more time on our hands, maybe we’ll revisit some of this, but. Just, at least for now, let it go?”

You’re quiet as you try and process that. 

“Just, let it go?”

“Yeah. Which reminds me...” Franky flashes a devilish grin at you and changes the song.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

[> SELECT YOUR CHARACTER.](https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/VVSGPB7)


	22. ====> Usopp: What the fuck just happened?

Realistically, you should probably get off the street at some point. You _won’t._ But. You probably should. Unfortunately, that thought doesn’t occur to you, since logic of that particular variety disappeared about the same time as Zoro’s house got fwooshed into oblivion.

Yeah, remember that? That was a while ago. Back when you were reading this, expecting some random hijinks, but instead you got a multiverse. Usopp has been here the whole time, and our story has been neglecting him. Well, no longer. Now it’s Usopp time. We’re gonna watch his grueling story all the way to its climax—even if that climax is a confused teenage boy lying down in the middle of a road waiting for an explanation of why he’s just lying down in the middle of the road.

Speaking of Usopp (who you now are again). At this point, it’s just pure luck that no cars have come by yet. And it’s definitely confusion that’s kept you down, since your head is spinning so fast it’s liable to fly right off of your shoulders and enter the stratosphere. You’re a lucky bastard, that’s for sure, or something would have hit you way sooner.

It’s almost cold enough outside to be uncomfortable, what with the snowstorm that’s been slowly picking up over the past who-knows-how-long you’ve been here. The spinning is starting to fade, but you still feel...off? Bad? Something in between. Groaning, you lift your phone up and hold it over your face. The chat window blinks dully in response—or rather, in one certain somebody’s _lack_ of response. 

OD: You tell me to get to Zoro’s house to play this game.  
OD: I ask his sister to make a distaction, so she gets him grounded.  
OD: *distraction   
OD: Zoro gets megagrounded, which is technically my fault then.  
OD: We play an incredible, reality-warping game which is actually really enjoyable, but that’s not the point! And Zoro’s dad catches us, and  
OD: Well I don’t really understand what he did. I didn’t think Mr. Mihawk was that bad, but what he did to Zoro was just...  
OD: Anyway I wound up on the street after it all went to shit and Zoro’s house is literally fucking —>gone<— and I’m still here and I just, I KNow that you knew this would happen somehow, and I don’t know how or why?

You wait. The snow gets thicker.

Nothing.

Your eyes sting a little—must be the cold, obviously, and nothing else.

OD: Robin?  
OD: I’m not going to lie, I think I’m freaking out a little, and you’re the person who put me in this position, right? I really, really need to understand what’s going on.

It’s been multiple minutes. Robin never really ignores you for this long, and frankly, it’s starting to hurt.

OD: Nothing? Really, Robin?  
OD:   
OD: You know, lying here in the middle of the street —>probably<— isn’t the healthiest thing for a strapping young man my age, but...  
OD: For some reason if you can’t be bothered to tell me to do something about it then I guess it doesn’t matter.  
OD: Does that make sense?  
OD: Like, I trust you too much, after everything you’ve done for me, so if you’re not gonna tell me to get up after you got me into this entire scenario, then I don’t really know what to do. Does this mean I just...  
OD: Stay here? Do I just trust you indefinitely? Or do I get up and choose what I’m gonna do on my own time?  
OD: Wow the more I think about it the more I realize you make everything incredibly more complicated than it has to be.  
OD: ...You’re still not saying anything? Really, after all the trust I put in you?  
OD: Wow. You hurt me. Wound me, even.   
OD: I guess this is what dying horrifically feels like—>  
OD: Guess I’ll wait for the cars.  
OD: Later, Robin. 

You leave the chat and switch your attention to the only other person in this cold snowy world that matters right now.

\- -  octoDisciples [OD] opened log to  goingMerrily [GM] \- -

OD: Hey Kaya  
GM: USopp! Oh my goodness I’ve been so worried why haven’t you returned my calls?!  
OD: I’m sorry, really. I’ve just been dealing with...a lot, I guess? Nothing? Who knows?  
OD: This however is nothing compared to that one time I stopped three armed muggers in an alleyway with just my bare hands! I can walk this off, it’s child’s play.  
GM: Usopp stop it!   
OD: right sorry i talk too much when I’m nervous sorry.  
GM: No apologies right now, mister, we’ll talk when I can see your face. Where are you, Merry and I are coming to get you now.  
OD: Colorado  
GM: you’re  
GM: what??  
OD: Aspen, Colorado  
GM: I  
GM: you better not be lying to me!  
OD: I am not! It’s snowing and I am in the road, I’ll send a selfie to prove it.

\- -  octoDisciples [OD]  sent attachment  “inthestreetsnow.png”  \- -

GM: USOPP GET OUT OF THE ROAD!!  
GM: Usopp?  
GM: Usopp!!  
GM: oh no  
GM: oh god, oh no no no  
GM: please dont do this to me you idiot  
GM: if you’re just ignoring me I’m gonna call the police and they’ll find you  
GM: please usopp get out of the road I don’t want to lose you too please  
OD: i  
GM: Usopp? Is that you??  
GM: Usopp you’re scaring me, just call me please?  
OD: wait babe i  
OD: i think I’m okay?  
OD: Okay not to freak you out or anything but I think I just became a god

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

====> Also Usopp: Be a brave warrior of the stars. 


	23. ====> Also Usopp: Be a brave warrior of the stars.

\- - draconicTempest [DT] closed your log to naiveReality [NR] \- -

You sigh and sit back in your chair. So that’s that. At least you got your goodbye in before Robin could be taken away by Luffy’s weird dad from the alpha timeline. You of all people know to respect the alpha timeline, and if the alpha timeline says you’re done talking to your friend, then you guess that’s that.

A small sniffle escapes you—you wipe at your nose quickly and decide to busy yourself with the upkeep of the Merry. Of course, there’s nothing really to upkeep. You take perfect care of your ship. You can look for dust all you like, but she’s spotless. You can check her targeting systems a million times, but they’re as accurate as ever. You can even try and give her an artistic touch-up— _ha_. You’d die before you let something chip her paint job, there’s nothing to fix.

No, as the venerable General Franky would say, there’s nothing to fix on a perfect ship, so you wind up back in your seat.

You miss Franky.

You miss _everyone._

It was nice, helping Robin, you think. The alpha Usopp is going to be in good hands. Lucci’s probably going to be a pain in the ass, but it’s better that it happens this way than he silently attacks everyone before they know about him. He’s the most malicious virus you know of, hopping through timelines and insidiously destroying every one of them he touches. Hopefully they can defeat him, remove his virus altogether from every corner of the multiverse.

After that moment of introspection, you sigh again and run your fingers through your frazzled mess of hair. At this point, you’re pretty sure your timeline ends soon. It’s inevitable—once you die, the timeline becomes insignificant. It’s been a while since you first started to understand things like this. It came to you in bits and pieces, like you assumed it did for all the other Usopps who got their powers awakened. It also used to be a lot harder to believe—but now, you just kind of roll with the punches.

See, the universe is _really_ a multiverse, full of timelines that contain most of the same players in immeasurably different circumstances. Only two things remains constant: every timeline contains an Usopp, and that Usopp will die. You, as arguably the most temporally aware Usopp so far, have been unfortunately stuck with the job of corralling the remaining Usopps in the fight to eradicate Lucci. There aren’t too many left, most of them in unfortunately useless situations. Like dealing with college, or a job, or getting married to Kaya—which is wonderful in _every_ way possible but not terribly tantamount to preserving the universe. There are a couple Dream Usopps left, but most of them are sound asleep or already dead. Lucci’s virus has been hunting his threats diligently—he even got to the alpha Usopp’s dreamself before you could stop him.

You rub at your temples with a quiet exclamation of annoyance. Gah. Time makes your brain hurt sometimes. Too many Usopps to keep track of, and all of them dropping too fast.

Merry’s console beeps loudly and you shriek, throwing your hands up in front of you as if to ward off the sound. Of course, it’s just the radar. Stupid, getting terrified for nothing. You’re a brave warrior of the stars, you don’t have time for freaking out. You’ve outgrown it.

You lean forward and pull down your GOGGLES OF ULTIMATE SIGHT, which can see a thousand miles away but have lately been utilized just for looking across the ship from your seat. Even after all this time, you’re still a bit of a lazy bastard. 

The radar registered Robin’s portal just as her escape pod passed through. She’s gone.

An enormous weight lifts off your shoulders and you laugh, broadly. You did it. You got her into the right timeline, and now she can move things forward. It’s a hell of an achievement.

Unfortunately, with jarring sobriety, you know what comes next.

When Merry’s system blares this time, it’s with klaxons and bright red siren lights. An attacker, one you know too well. You have the foresight to not scream this time.

“...Shit.” You gulp quietly as a dark streak rips across the starscape in front of you, only just slow enough to see. Gripping the small ship’s steering lever, you bring her around to where you saw the streak. Another flashes by, followed by two more—oh, _great._  He brought the whole damn pack.

Merry has only one gun, right below the viewport, and every instinct in your body tells you to squeeze the fucking trigger until your finger cramps. But as your hand twitches over the trigger, you instead open up a comms channel.

“Captain Kuro,” you mutter.

The bastard’s reply is immediate, voice slick with disdain. _“The great Captain Usopp. You gave a good chase, I’ll give you that.”_

This is it, you realize. This is where you die.

Somehow, that doesn’t bother you as much as it should. Since, after all, you can see the future. You’re going to go down fighting, the brave warrior you’ve always tried to be.

“What’s with the past tense?” you say, making your voice a little louder for emphasis. For some reason there’s a smile on your face. You’re proud of your future self for the dialogue choices he made. “The only reason our game of cat and mouse stopped was because _I_ let you find me, Kuro. I could do this all day, all year, all my life.”

Kuro snorts. _“Yet here we are.”_

“Here we are,” you agree.

There’s silence for a moment. Now you can see that you’re thoroughly surrounded by Kuro’s fleet of camouflaged fighter ships. Kuro’s personal fighter looms just ahead of you, sparkling in the stars. There’s no escaping this one.

_“I can’t tell you how long I’ve waited to watch you burn, Usopp.”_

“I can. It’s been thirteen years.”

_“Well, yes, but see, you can’t possibly understand the ramifications of that. There’s such a deep hatred, festering in my heart right now, at this very moment—and it’s all because you. I’ve been living every day of the past decade just biding my time, waiting until I could see the life drain from your eyes, just like I did with her.”_

“You think I don’t understand your hatred? You took Kaya from me,” you say, more measured than you feel. You don’t like talking about Kaya too much anymore, and it takes a lot of effort to say anything. “I’ve had thirteen years to hate you back. But hey, sorry I ruined your retirement.”

Kuro makes a dismissive sound.  _“At this point, I’m not even looking forward to the retirement. After all, you’ve been fun to chase. What will I do without a prey like you to hunt down?”_

“I dunno, destroy some more lives, kill some more innocents? It’s your specialty.”

_“Then why don’t you take revenge right now?”_ The bastard’s voice is as smug as ever—he knows he hit a nerve, getting personal. _“I’m terrible, a monster and a murderer. I admit it. You have me right here. Take the shot.”_

You pretend to think for a moment.

_“What’s wrong, Sniperking? Can’t hit a target right in front of you?”_

You shake your head, knowing he can’t see it, and let go of the trigger. As you do, your hand trails over the scratched console. You love your ship. She’s small, but she’s gotten you through so much. Kaya helped you build her, and franky, you all worked together and you took an engine and a couple rivets and wires and made a masterpiece. You treasure your small fighter and your love’s legacy more than your own life. You equipped Merry with only one weapon, but became known among the stars for your prowess with it as the Sniperking.

And right now, Kuro doesn’t deserve to die by something as straightforward as a gun.

“Oh, I could totally take you,” you say, reaching for a glass-encased button on your console. “But I’ve got a better idea.”

You smash the glass with a grin and slam the button, and a short countdown begins. This is how it was meant to go. After all, Merry’s a hell of a ship.

She also has one hell of a nuclear reactor. It’d be a shame to waste it.

~ 

====> Also Also Usopp: Be a brave warrior of the night.


	24. ====> Also Also Usopp: Be a brave warrior of the night.

It is pitch black out on Prospit. If time actually meant anything here, it’d be late as balls and time for you to go to sleep, but you’ll be damned if you ever let that stop you from working into the late hours of eternity.

Your bedroom/makeshift workshop is, to put it frankly, the worst mess any human being has ever created in their bedroom/makeshift workshop. You live in a small room where any movement is accompanied by the crinkling of discarded parchment. There are ink splotches all over your arms, your bright gold pajamas, your desk and even the walls (how you got it on the ceiling is beyond you). Other projects lie propped up against your bed, discarded, forgotten in haste. There’s a certain smell in the room—not quite BO, but rather a stench of neglect that can easily bring said odor to mind. Well, that, and there’s the corpse.

You’d almost feel bad for your roommate, if he hadn’t been dead already for several days. You don’t have time to think about him. The clock is already ticking. See, Lucci’s coming for you next, you can feel it. It’s a deadline. Literally. It is a timeline, and at the end of it, you will be dead. You don’t have time to mourn—even though you admit to yourself you’ve been crying on and off daily in mourning. Hell, you’re quite the multitasker when you feel like it. Even as you work you can still see his lifeless eyes, the slight purple tint to his skin that indicated the poison.

So you have to keep working. Mania and mourning be damned, you force yourself to keep going. The blueprints are all that matters.

You work constantly, day in and day out. You consult Franky on the logistics of the machine and try to make it work, to the best of your ability—and your ability _has_ to be the best, you have no choice. Otherwise everyone—every _thing_ , every _when_ —is doomed.

When the room finally gets too cluttered for you to ignore, you enlist Franky’s help once again to remove Luffy’s body from his side of the room and give him a proper burial. Neither one of you is very productive that day.

Days turn to weeks. At some point you finish your final blueprint—the occasion _should_ be momentous, but you’re running on practically no sleep and so much sadness and way too much caffeine that the time you once coveted so much has become nothing more than an illusion. Your achievement flies by as you hold up the final blueprints for the machine that will save the universe and survey the name.

**HEPHAESTON**

You smile sadly. “I...I did it, Luffy. Just like you said I would."

At this point, you’re so far gone that you don’t even notice the assassin standing right behind you.

~ 

====> Usopp, Usopp, and Usopp: Usopp. 


	25. ====> Usopp, Usopp, and Usopp: Usopp.

A million miles away and eight hundred years into the future, the Merry explodes with all the power of a star, and takes the Sniperking with it.

Somehow simultaneously, yet not simultaneously at all, the great engineer Usopp dies with a knife buried in his abdomen, his blood staining the blueprints to his greatest creation.

And you are lying down in the road, taking a selfie.

You put on your most tired of smiles and hold the phone out and right as your finger presses the shutter and the light flashes, that’s when it happens.

The smile falls from your face as you are suddenly and entirely  _overwhelmed_ with two simultaneous streams of information, memories, and experiences that you have never experienced. Heroic battles among the stars. Sleepless nights in a workshop of gold. Love, death, marriage, murder, revenge, _time._ All time, every time, and yet, only Usopp time.

You’d like to have more time to process this, but you are suddenly violently aware of the ginormous truck speeding towards you.

Without thinking, you lash out a foot and launch your computer towards the sidewalk, somehow knowing it will land upright—in the same motion, you twist your body away from the middle of the road and roll perfectly to your feet, right as the truck whooshes by at thirty over the speed limit.

You watch it go, only hyperventilating a _little_ , and see what looks like faint red afterimages in its wake.

It’s no surprise that your legs fail you, and you quickly find yourself ass-deep in a snowbank, your hands buried in the fine powder. “ _Wh-at_ the fuck?!” you stammer, staring at the snowy outline of where you’d been laying despondent before. The same red afterimage is there, a dull trace of you in the road, and then your expression changes and suddenly the afterimage is launching forward like fucking Jason Bourne to where you’re sprawled out right now.

As you swallow and attempt to remember how to breathe, you find yourself noticing a lot more red than usual in your surroundings. It’s like everything around you has that afterimage now. Zoro’s house has a ghosted red outline too, not that it moves much, because houses aren’t _supposed_ to move, except Zoro’s house doesn’t know that. Oh, sweet fucking Christmas, what the hell just happened. You thought Zoro’s house disappearing was weird but this is just...wow, what the _fuck_.

You rub aggressively at your temples and squeeze your eyes shut as tight as they go. When you open them, the afterimages are still there. And worse, there are some _before_ images too—the snowflakes have red outlines a few seconds ahead _and_ a few behind, almost like you know their path ahead of time. This is so messed up. Afterimages, beforeimages, Jason Bourne, you haven’t seen any of those things before.

Except dream engineer Usopp. He saw _The Bourne Legacy,_ if you remember correctly.

...Hold on.

Before you allow yourself to indulge this train of thought, your mind invariably returns to your friends, and the game from earlier today. Robin and Luffy have shown you some weird shit in your tiny lifetime, things you’ve tried to explain but couldn’t, things that logically shouldn’t exist, but damn if you didn’t see them anyway.

The game was weird, mindblowing, sure, but...not the _weirdest._

You decide that can handle a little time fuckery.

Okay. So, if what you saw was real... then you saw memories of something, right? Memories that both are and aren’t yours. Like Jason Bourne. Experiences of—of _other_ Usopps, you realize, which is weird because last you checked you were the only Usopp in the phone book, but somehow it makes perfect sense.

In fact, a lot is starting to make sense, thanks to the memories and skills you’ve acquired from Sniperking Usopp. Like how you can suddenly see the flow of time for yourself and the world around you. You’re a SEER OF TIME. And just like you can see how time flows in your timeline, you can see how it flows in Sniperking’s timeline, and in dream engineer Usopp’s timeline too. You can see yourself, viewed through different lenses of the multiverse that you’ve only just now realized exists.

Something churns in your stomach—not quite nausea, but more like...excitement? Anticipation? Nerves? You’ve just been made aware of the fact that you are, _literally,_ a lesser god of time. Which isn’t as cool as being, say, Hephaestus, but it’s still pretty damn awesome. Which reminds you, you are now the only holder of the blueprints to saving the universe.

...That sounds  _significantly_ less fun than being a god.

Suddenly you’re desperately in need of girlfriend advice.

GM: please usopp get out of the road I don’t want to lose you too please  
OD: i  
GM: Usopp? Is that you??  
GM: Usopp you’re scaring me, just call me please?  
OD: wait babe i  
OD: i think I’m okay?  
OD: Okay not to freak you out or anything but I think I just became a god  
GM:  
OD: Okay and now I’m realizing that a statement like that is almost —>guaranteed<— to freak you out and I’m very sorry but I promise that I’m okay! I’m not in the road right now, something happened when I took that picture and I just, like...  
OD: Cartwheeled myself out of the way?  
GM: Usopp you’ve never done a single cartwheel in your entire life.  
GM: Please don’t lie to me right now, I love you so much but I’m so worried and I just can’t take this right now.  
OD: I’m not lying, I swear.  
OD: I swear on my mom, okay?  
GM: You promise?  
OD: I promise.  
OD: I —>also<— promise that I’m as confused as you are! I know I’m no acrobat.  
GM: So you’re okay?  
OD: I am. I think so, anyway. And I’m so sorry for scaring you, I don’t know what happened.  
OD: Wait, actually, I kind of do, it’s sort of

You stop for a moment to shake your head a couple times. The red beforeimages are starting to show on your text conversation and it’s getting exponentially harder to read. Maybe there’s a way to imagine them away, so you only see them when you need to—

Sniperking Usopp’s memories immediately yield an answer on how to do so, and after you try what he suggests, the images you don’t need are gone. Oh, thank _god._ Well, thank you.

OD: Okay can you trust that what I’m about to explain is not a joke or a prank or a lie, but rather a ridiculous combination of fucked up circumstances that I’m only kind of understanding as I go along?  
GM: ? What?  
OD: Can you just agree to believe me, even if what I say is ridiculous?

You can practically see her thinking. Your beforeimages—let’s just call it what it is, it’s FUTURE VISION—accidentally lets slip her answer and you breathe a sigh of relief.

GM: I will always believe you.  
OD: Thank you babe you’re my absolute hero (｡ゝ∀・)b  
GM: ＠'ェ'＠  
OD: god i love you  
GM: I still cant decide whether I’m angry at you or terrified for you, but at least for the moment, consider my disbelief suspended.  
GM: I love you too  
OD: daww  
GM: Now get explaining!  
OD: Okay, so, where to start.  
OD: You know that game SLINE?  
GM: Yes, you and Luffy and that crew of people were planning to start a game together today, right?  
OD: Right.  
OD: So there’s been a lot of crazy shit happening today, and I’m now fairly certain that it’s all because of the game.  
OD: It started out fun, but now it’s gotten kind of scary and I don’t know how to feel about it? Because I love having fun with my best friends but not at this cost.  
GM: There’s a cost?  
OD: I’m getting to that. Some stuff happened to me that basically helped me understand more or less how this game works. There are a lot of weird features of the game, but these are the only ones you need to know.  
OD: 1.) The game is able to affect reality. As in, if you play it in your room, you can edit your room in real life using the game engine. You can also die for real in it.  
OD: 2.) Not only does it affect reality, but apparently, the game has existed for the duration of the known cosmos. Our choices to play it were already somehow predicated by history, and therefore inevitable. Basically it’s a huge ass deal.  
OD: 3.) The game has this player system with a server and a client player. The server basically runs the client’s game for them—so I was Zoro’s server player, meaning I could edit his room while he played the game using his room. Then he was supposed to be someone else’s server player so they could play the game properly, and his client would be someone else’s server, and so on. Eventually everyone would be linked in a chain of players.  
OD: 4.) Every person in the game has a special title called a “classpect”—you get different powers and stuff depending on it. At some point in the game you can level up and go “godtier”, unlocking your true powers.  
OD: 5.) You also have a dreamself duplicate of yourself that lives while you sleep on another world created by the game, kind of like a second life.  
OD: 6.) The game can essentially be “entered”—while you can play a small part of it in your room, there will be a time limit for you to truly enter the full session.  
OD: 7.) The time limit is a warning for a meteor impact. If you don’t enter the session and escape your house soon enough, a meteor will come down from the sky and kill you.  
GM:   
OD: oh yeah and 8.) The universe is actually a multiverse with infinite timelines that all hinge on me dying somehow  
GM: Well thanks, Usopp, that cleared everything up.  
GM: Um.  
GM: When you said to believe you this wasn’t what i pictured  
OD: It’s crazy, but it’s true.  
GM: So is that what you meant by becoming a god? You went “godtier”?  
OD: Yeah.  
OD: I’m a Seer of Time (that’s my classpect) which makes me able to understand the flow of time in the multiverse.   
OD: I was playing the game with Zoro when he fully entered the session, and as a result I got kicked out of his house and wound up on the street. I didn’t know what was going on and then, suddenly, my powers awakened out of nowhere. I could see time and I had powers that other Usopps from other timelines had and that’s how I Jason Bourned my way out of becoming roadkill.  
GM: And the cost you were talking about, that was the meteor stuff?  
OD: Yeah.  
GM: Okay.  
OD: ...Wait you believe me?  
GM: Of course! I said I would. Plus there are some scary news reports going on about meteor impacts and death tolls right now.  
OD: Wait, really?? Are you safe?  
GM: Yeah, it hasn’t gotten to our neighborhood yet, don’t worry.  
GM: But East Grand City is in flames, and one big meteor hit Baltigo Station News hours ago. It’s all over the...news, ironically.  
OD: Oh, no, that’s where Luffy and Chopper live!  
GM: Not just there. The meteors are all over the country, all over the world. It’s dangerous everywhere, I’m no safer here than you are there.  
GM: I’m honestly a little relieved to know that this is the result of a game and not a severe lapse in planetary security on NASA’s part.  
OD: There’s one other thing.  
GM: Oh?

You swallow uncomfortably. Just the idea of talking about this makes you nervous, but...no, you can say anything to Kaya.

OD: When I went godtier, I got the memories from two different Usopps.  
OD: One was an awesome space pirate, which was, decidedly, awesome.  
GM: Agreed.  
OD: The other was a dream version of me who was...in a bad place. His version of Luffy had been murdered and he, he just didn’t do anything about it at all? He was so hyperfocused on this blueprint that he had to make, and he was absolutely convinced that the blueprint was the key to saving the world, to winning the game. He died immediately after completing it, someone killed him.  
GM: Oh goodness. Are you doing alright?  
OD: Not really? Mostly because I don’t know what to do now, though.  
OD: Robin was the one who told me I needed to play the game, and apparently, she’s not from this timeline, but from the one with awesome space pirate me. They worked together to get her here, through time. So technically this was all my idea, and now I’m the Usopp who’s supposed to keep this all going and save the world or something, and I don’t know what to do.  
GM: Hm. Well, what are the blueprints of?

You think for a moment, trying to conjure up an image of the papers on which your alternate self had desperately designed whatever Hephaeston was supposed to be. What you see is... _not_  exactly what you were expecting.

OD: Okay this may sound odd but  
OD: I think it’s a volcano?  
GM: You’re right, that does sound odd.  
OD: How does a volcano save the universe?  
GM: I guess that’s for you to find out.  
OD: But how do I do that?  
GM: I’m not sure, but I have faith in you.  
OD: You do?  
GM: Of course I do. I wouldn’t have fallen in love with someone I don’t believe in. If a different version of you from a different timeline thought that this was where you needed to be, then who am I to question that?

It takes every ounce of restraint in your time-transcendent being to refrain from sending your entire kaomoji library to the greatest gal in the entire multiverse. You settle for a classic.

OD: <3  
GM: <3  
GM: Now go and use your brand new amazing time powers and save the world!  
OD: But what about you? I want to make sure you’re safe.  
GM: No worries sweetie.  
GM: I may not understand time as well as you, but I understand you. And I’ll be waiting for you at the finish line, once you’ve done what you need to do, alright?

You wipe at your eyes, vision clouded by snow and some relieved tears. You’re so grateful for your wonderful girlfriend.

OD: Okay.  
OD: I love you so much, Kaya.  
GM: I love you too, Usopp.   
GM: Oh no

\- -  goingMerrily [GM]  has disconnected - -

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

====> Luffy: Die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re back, babey ;0


End file.
